Harry Potter and the Death Eaters' Bane
by HarleyPotter19
Summary: Harry, Hermione, and Ron know the Room of Requirement gives you what you need. When they encounter Frank Stewart — the unstoppable zombie-killer — Hermione thinks he might be the key to keeping Harry alive. Right or wrong, he will certainly shake things up at Hogwarts. Rated M for violence and "suggestive" bits ;-). Collaboration with JasCraw.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Some of you reading this may be wondering why I'm starting a new story when I haven't finished my others. It's a collaboration. Fellow Author JasCraw (on FanFiction /u/8003766/jascraw) and I have been working on this for a while after discussing what would happen if the main character (Frank Stewart) from his Blood Soaked series was exposed to the Potterverse. If you want to know more about Frank, you can look for any of the Blood Soaked books on Amazon, or visit bloodsoakedandwriting (it's a dot com).

On the plus side, working on this is making me want to work on my other stories, so I will most likely get back to them soon. :)

Last thing...We've got a good chunk of this written, and we keep writing more every day. For now, expect a weekly posting schedule. If we finish writing the story, we may post more often. Now, without further ado, here is:

 **Harry Potter and the Death Eaters' Bane**

I don't like tunnels.

It doesn't matter that I can see in the dark, I just don't like them. Concrete walls that seem to go on forever in the dark like the inside of a gigantic colon. Then there's that certain chill that cold weather gear can't touch.

Nope. Do not like.

Complaining is useless because I was to blame for being there in the first place. I chose to go on what sounded like a simple sweep and clear of a small group of our version of the undead - revived suburbanites who have an annoying taste for flesh and blood - and I knew that being underground was part of the deal.

On top of my annoyance at myself, the rest of the situation was not turning out the way I expected. Instead of five zombies, there were nearly fifty of the bastards.

Excuse me, forty-nine. One decided to come around the corner to have a look at what they're dealing with: me.

I took exception to being peeped, so I took his head the classical Frank Stewart way.

Maybe not completely classical, because I used the spike on the blade of the Man Scythe to pop him in the forehead. Then I flipped my wrist, deployed the blade, and pivoted to the left as I brought it around. My little friend's head came right off.

Perfect kill. I congratulated myself, and then something happened. There were no sounds or flashing lights to help me put a name to whatever occurred. It was there, then gone, but I felt it in my bones for a few moments afterward.

I didn't like it.

Even the zombies around the corner knew something was up. I could hear them shuffling around and bitching about it. The smartest one started babbling about the spacetime continuum, but was quickly hushed.

They got back to planning how to kill me.

How sweet of them! I'm not sure they knew I could hear almost everything they said.

I debated informing them that they were bad at secrecy, but another unsettling thing happened. I heard three voices down the arm of the tunnel behind me, arguing. No one had been there before the unnameable feeling a handful of seconds before.

They should have shown up in my mind's eye as approaching heat signatures at least one hundred yards from their current position. My altered brain is good that way. Except in this case, they didn't ping until I heard them talking.

Color me unsettled.

"Harry, what have you done _this_ time?" It was a girl's voice, reedy and annoyed. She sounded like a kid who is used to being right all the time. British accent.

"I don't know. I just felt compelled to touch this, and here we are. It must have been a portkey. I suppose it's a good thing you grabbed me, or I'd have been here alone." A young man this time.

"It's pretty dim here, and damp as well." The third was a boy too, with a very unsure tone of voice.

"Well, Ron, it is _clearly_ a tunnel. Tunnels are often dark and damp." The girl admonished him. Oh, she's a feisty one! She switched to a whisper. "Harry, there must have been a compulsion charm on it. But why are we _here_? And _where_ is here?"

"Wands out, d'you reckon?" The first boy whispered as well.

"Yes, probably for the best, but keep them hidden. There may be muggles around. And you two can only use them in life-threatening situations, you aren't of age yet."

These kids...What? Muggles? What in the fuck are muggles? Is that what they call zombies?

And wands? Is this a random CosPlay encounter?

"Hey! You three!" I called out. "If you're safe standing where you are, then don't come any closer. I've got a pack of zombies up here, and they'd probably find you yummy."

"Excuse me?" It was the girl again.

"Zombies. You know, undead, terminally vexed and hungry?" I didn't want to sound too annoyed, but that girl was of the kind who could easily get on my nerves...definitely a know-it-all.

Another resurrected suburbanite rounded the corner near me, and I needed to deal with him before I socialized with random young people.

"Asshole!" The zombie hissed and lunged for me.

All things considered, it was a great lunge. Sadly, his groin met my foot on the way. Oops.

I hit him while he was down. The blade of the Man Scythe — all curvy glory — dropped into the crown of his skull with a gorgeous _schwuck_ noise. That's the noise you get when you bust a ripe melon, for those of you who have no imagination.

I pulled the blade free through his face. Awful. Awful.

About that time, the three kids arrived on the scene. The ginger boy was tallest (who'd gone quite green around the gills), followed by a scruffy black-haired boy, and then the girl. Yes, she was the epitome of spunky, with curly hair that was just this side of finger-in-an-electrical-socket poofy.

"Bloody hell, mate," Ginger pointed at the body by my foot, "Did you just kill that man?"

The question brought me up so short that I scratched my head, but before I could answer, another bad guy came into range. With a smooth motion, I pulled my .45 with my left hand, leaned out from the concrete corner, and shot him in the face. When that was done, I turned back to the trio.

"Yes, Ginger, I killed him, and I just killed another one. They're bad guys. Do you understand b-a-d g-u-y-s?" It was worth spelling out.

The lanky lad finished turning completely green and shot a blast of vomit onto the concrete in front of his feet.

To their credit, both the girl and other boy looked annoyed at his reaction.

They were wearing almost identical robes, matching ties, and holding sticks in their hands that were vaguely pointed in my direction, but still mostly hidden in their sleeves. I almost died, because they (save the Ginger) looked like those wooden rods were important.

"Got wood, huh?" I asked. "You're shitty at hiding things. And I heard you talking about them. Sneaking requires silence."

"Yes. They're our wands." Scruffy nodded, and pushed his round glasses back up his nose. He quickly checked the positioning of his sleeve. "How did you know? Revelio shouldn't have enabled you to see them. Did you even use a wand?"

"Do you have spelled lenses like Professor Dumbledore does?" asked the girl.

"We don't know that he does," said the black haired boy.

"Well, how else could he see through invisibility cloaks?"

I cocked my head like a spaniel, and blinked hard. It would have been more impressive if I still had the long hair I did years ago, but I put my best effort into exuding incredulity.

"Are you fucking insane?" I waved the Man Scythe at them. "What the fuck is a Revelio? Who the fuck is Dumbledore?"

** - HPDEB - **

Harry, Ron, and Hermione backed away from the man with the giant weapon and formed a circle to keep watch as they decided what to do.

"Harry, what's going on? I don't think he's magical, but he can see our wands. They're hidden!"

"And he killed people, mate. Did you see it? Put that thing straight through his head! Then blasted the other with that wand-thing."

"The _thing_ is called a scythe, _Ronald_. And-"

The tall man in bloody clothes cut her off, "Not quite Curly. It's a Man Scythe. Different purpose. Really different technique."

"Muffliato. Harry, how did he hear us?"

"It doesn't matter, we can speak normally now. Good thinking, Hermione. Ron, get yourself together, we've seen and heard of worse from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Now, this man, whoever he is, claims that those other people were the bad guys. I believe him. He's not attacking them, they're attacking him."

"He called them zombies. Do you think it's possible?"

"What are zombies?"

"Honestly, Ronald, don't you _ever_ read? Zombies are Muggle versions of Inferi, but they aren't raised by magic. Different lores have them resulting from different things, but they are most often believed to be the result of some sort of disease. But zombies are supposed to be mythical. Then again, if Inferi can be created—"

"Hermione, I don't think right now is the best time to consider the history and probability of zombies."

"Right. Then what are we going to do, Harry?"

"We'll talk to this guy, see what's going on."

"Very well, finite."

"Oi, you! Do you need help fighting these...Hermione, what did he call them? Er...zombies?"

** - HPDEB - **

I called out to the kids, "You can speak normally without waving sticks around. We can talk about what a Death Eater and a Voldemort are after we deal with the zombies."

The three of them fell dead silent. I know what dead silent sounds like, and they were definitely _it_. Maybe I wasn't supposed to hear that conversation. I decided to worry about it later and answered Ron's question.

"If the zombies come at us, and I do mean US, singly, then I won't need anything."

"Well then," the young lady stood a little straighter, as if she was on a firmer cognitive footing, "how many of them are there?"

I took a little closer look at the data display in my head and told her there were forty-six that I was aware of. I added that there might be more beyond one hundred yards from where we were standing.

"Were you running away from them?" The glasses boy asked, suddenly curious. "Are they chasing you because you made them angry?"

"No. Also no. Um. Maybe." I holstered my pistol, partially because I felt I might want to slap the kid for asking silly questions.

"Then," Ginger scratched his thatch, "how do you know how many of them there are? It's pretty dark in here."

Curly glanced at her companions and whispered, "He might be a wizard."

Ping! Three undead shmucks separated from the larger group and started coming our way at speed. They were armed. We had less than six seconds.

"Kids, back up now! We're going to have company!"

"Oi, what d'you mean?" Ginger asked, and I wished I had time to thump him on the head.

"Ron, come away!" The girl took him by the sleeve of his robe and tried to pull him back, but it was too late.

The zombies turned the corner, firing their guns.

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione had a split-second to make up her mind about the statute of secrecy. She heard Ron casting Protego, the idiot. Statute of secrecy be damned, she wasn't letting someone die if she could help it.

"Erecto murus!" She heard the thud of bullets into the wall, followed by three other thuds, presumably the...zombies...running into it.

"Ronald, _what_ were you thinking?"

"You said use magic if we were in danger. I saw what those wand-things do to people."

"Those are _guns_ Ronald! Guns! Protego won't do anything. They're like the Unforgivables, you have to erect a physical barrier to stop the bullets!"

"How in the bloody hell was I supposed to know that?"

"By _reading_?"

"Guys, is now the right time?"

"No, you're right, Harry. Do you think it's safe to bring down the wall?"

"I think we'd best use it as cover. But let's see how our "friend" is doing. He doesn't seem to have moved."

** - HPDEB - **

And then there was a wall, an honest to God brick wall, between me and the unfriendlies. No, really. A wall.

It took me a second to remember that people with guns can go around walls, and decide to take advantage of what had appeared unasked. I pushed the wall over on top of the zombies, drew my gun, and blew their brains out while they tried to scramble from under the rubble.

One. Two. Big breath in. Big breath out. Turn to the youngsters.

"What the fuck was that? Where did the goddamned wall come from? Wall! Why?"

The force of my delivery made them take two steps back and point their sticks at me. It might have been that I was waving the Man Scythe and a loaded pistol around, too.

"Seriously? You can see through walls, but you've never seen someone conjure one? Hermione, this guy's an idiot!"

Curly gave Ginger a death glare.

" _Ronald_! Now is _not_ the time! Calm down, Sir. I may not know you, but I didn't want you to die. The only thing I could think of was to conjure a wall."

You could have heard my mental gears shift into first as I considered what I'd just heard. Sir. Conjure. Not die. For a moment, my cynical heart was softened. It might be due to the fact that I ignored the red-haired boy, Ronald, and focused on the spunky (yet well-mannered) young woman.

"Conjure, as in magic? The thing that doesn't exist in the world? Am I hearing you correctly?" I might have asked...Gasp...Politely.

"Oh," the scruffy youngster butted in, "you are a Muggle then."

"Why does that sound judgemental? Harry? Am I right?" I asked.

Curly shot a dirty look at Harry. "Yes, Sir. He's Harry, I'm Hermione, and that," she nodded to Ginger, "is Ronald."

"Ron!"

She rolled her eyes. "Muggle sounds judgemental because it is, but that is the word used to describe people without magic, and unfortunately, we've all gotten into the habit of using it." Her eyes suddenly shot wide. "Oh no! We've used magic in front of you! And we've told you about magic."

She looked around as though expecting to find something. "But the ministry hasn't sent an owl yet. They didn't even send anything to Ron for his use of magic. Harry, how long did it take for an owl to arrive after you saved your cousin?"

"Dunno. Fifteen minutes, maybe?"

"Oh, I suppose we have a bit of time. Maybe more depending on how far we are from the ministry." She suddenly turned back to me. "Where is _here_ , precisely, Sir?"

The situation was becoming increasingly strange, at least from my point of view. They didn't know where they were, and that's something I seldom hear.

I nodded, and answered. "Let's be precise: you are in the service tunnels of the Washington, DC metro system, near the Convention Center. I'm going to assume, from your accents, that you're from," I pointed at Harry, "somewhere south of London, but not coastal. Surrey, to hazard a guess."

The lad looked a little shocked.

I continued with the girl, "London, and no mistake. And you, Ronald, escape me. Your diction is gummy and you slouch."

Ginger looked offended. Fine with me.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

"I spent a lot of time in the UK when I was a kid. Some things really stick in your head. This girl in Surrey though..." I shut up before I could start.

"Harry, far more troublesome is how we ended up here. We were at Hogwarts not too long ago. Let me see that thing you touched."

Harry reached into his robes and pulled out something...small. "I don't think it's anything important, Hermione. It's not calling to me anymore. And I swear it was glowing before."

"This is covered in runes, Harry. It's too dark to see, hang on. Lumos. That's better. Some of these are rather worn. I can't really take the time to decipher all of it just now, but this one means help or aid. This is bravery. Here's...time?" Her head popped up. "Sir, what date is it?"

The tip of the girl's stick lit up. There's a naughty joke in there somewhere. I allowed myself to assume that magic is real for the moment.

"November 16, 2018." As soon as I said that, another batch of idiots parted company from the group around the corner. Six this time. "Hermione, Harry, Ronald, we're going to have more company. I'm about to do some very brutal things, and I'd appreciate if you didn't hit me with spells while I'm doing it."

"It's Ron," I heard Ginger mumble. I suddenly understood why Hermione called him Ronald. Grin.

** - HPDEB - **

"Harry, Ron, we can help. If these are like normal zombies, take off their heads."

Hermione prepared herself. Zombies aren't alive. She wasn't killing anyone, she was ending abominations. That was a good thing.

When Frank attacked the first one, she ignored the clash in favor of taking out the second.

"Reducto!" Its head exploded, and it dropped to the ground. "Reducto!" A second zombie dealt with.

She looked for another, but they were all downed.

** - HPDEB - **

Harry knew better than to think about taking a life. He hadn't been in many battles, but he'd been through enough to know you didn't think about what you were doing until after you made it out.

"Diffindo!" It hit, but it wasn't strong enough. The head didn't come off completely. The zombie fell, however, and he decided he could finish the work later.

"Bombarda!" The next zombie's head and upper torso exploded. That's better. He was finished.

** - HPDEB - **

Ron was so disgruntled about being called Ronald so much that he almost missed the action. He was called out of his angry musings by Hermione's first Reducto. Lifting his wand, he aimed and took off a zombie's head with a surprisingly well-placed (for him) Reducto. His ensuing moment of mental congratulation ensured he didn't get to take out any others.

** - HPDEB - **

I didn't think about the kids. I just walked out to meet the new attackers and got ready to deal with all six at the same time. Imagine my surprise when I didn't have to. Four of them suddenly lost their heads, and a fifth was wounded pretty severely. I only had one left to mangle.

I felt like I had to do something spectacular. I know, wand envy.

I dropped the Man Scythe to the ground, and snapped my right hand into a different shape — a long tapering appendage — and cracked it like a whip at the sixth zombie. The top of her head sheared off. On the way back to me, my elongated bit passed through her neck, finishing the job of taking her noggin off.

It was a new trick. My right arm was a recent replacement then, still black from shoulder to fingertips, and I'd only just begun to figure out everything it could do.

When I turned around, the wounded zombie was on his feet, running around in tight little circles, spouting blood, and trying to hold his head on. Looked like an incomplete decapitation. Sad, really.

I finished removing his head with a pop of my long "finger," and returned my hand to normal. All five fingers present and accounted for.

When I looked back at the kids, I wished I hadn't shown off. You would think that cutting heads off and making people-shaped creatures explode would be more terrifying than my arm. Not the case. Giving them some kind of explanation was absolutely necessary.

"Short form. I was in an explosion not long ago, and the most merciful thing my doctor could do was amputate what was left of my right arm." I spoke as gently and honestly as I was prepared to at the time. "The prosthetic arm I was given is well-beyond contemporary technology. It can change shape, among other things."

Hermione shed her fear. It was replaced with a look of rapacious intellectual hunger. Truthfully, it was a little scary.

"Is it a machine, Sir?" She asked me.

I nodded and asked, "Do you read a lot?"

"Everything I can."

"Do you recognize this, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology'—"

She cut me off and finished the quote, "...'Is indistinguishable from magic!' Arthur C. Clarke!"

I nodded. Saved by one of the world's finest authors of any genre.

"It's not magic?" Ron didn't sound convinced, or maybe he was disappointed.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

Hermione forcibly pulled herself back from the excitement of finding another learned soul. There were more important things to figure out.

"Sir? You said we're in 2018? In Washington, DC?" She turned to Ron and Harry. "That's the capital of the United States."

"Yes." I had a question of my own, and curiosity won out over being obnoxious. "You didn't know what year it is. Why is that?"

"Sir, we were just in Hogwarts, a magical school in the Scottish Highlands, on November 16, 1996. That thing Harry touched has transported us through space and time."

Outwardly, I blinked, inwardly I was cursing Mr. Scott and Geordi La Forge. Spacetime fuckup.

Damn it. More zombies were on the way, carrying heavier weapons. I wanted to know what the fuck was going on, so I asked Hermione for a favor.

"Can you put up a wall across the passage? We'll have company in a second."

The young woman nodded.

"Erecto murus!" She did some complex movement with her wand, then directed it across the tunnel. A brick wall sprang into existence behind me, like she'd painted it with her wand. It would keep out annoying guests until we got more questions answered.

"Hermione, perhaps concrete? Won't that hold up better than brick?"

She looked chagrined. "Of course, you're right, Harry. Duro maxima!" The wall was suddenly concrete and an extra foot thick. That'll take them a while to get through.

"Wow, a foot and a half of concrete!" I smiled. "You kids don't mess around. I approve. Now, Harry can I see the thing you touched? You had it out before we were interrupted."

He pulled it out of a pocket in his robe and walked towards me, holding it out. I couldn't tell if it was the thing that bothered him or getting close enough to me to hand it over.

"We should probably touch your arm or shoulder, Mr...?"

"Just call me Frank. Touch my arm? Not that I'm opposed, just curious."

"You're an unknown entity, Sir...er...Frank." Hermione was not used to calling adults by their first name. "If you touching it causes it to activate, we wouldn't have any way to get back to Hogwarts. But if we're touching you, even just a finger, we'll be transported with you."

What else was I going to do? I held out my hands. I couldn't predict how they'd feel about my right hand, so I gave them the option of something more familiar.

Hermione reached out first and went straight for the right hand. Ronald, aka Ron, scooted around to my left. Harry looked thoughtful, lifted his face to meet my eyes, and joined his friend Hermione.

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione let her curiosity run away a bit, and ran her hand along the arm she was holding. It was smooth, even though it didn't look smooth. It felt nothing like an arm. She gave his bicep a quick squeeze. It wasn't squishy at all.

Harry poked her in the rib with his elbow, and she suddenly realized what she had been doing. Her face flamed red.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Harry, just give him the amulet."

** - HPDEB - **

For a minute I wondered if she was going to dry hump my arm. It was pretty clear that satisfying curiosity might as well be sex for Hermione. The young woman's heart started racing the moment she touched me, and I saw the way she shifted her hips. Oh dear.

Don't give this girl a copy of the Kama Sutra or anything written by Masters and Johnson. Her present or future boyfriends are already in for a hell of a ride. Might have a hell of a drop, too, once they stopped being interesting to her.

It was a little difficult to stop following the train of thought — pink, slightly sweaty, and making great chugging noises — but I managed. I dealt with it by turning my attention to the amulet Harry put in my hand.

"Oh. Fuck me." I wasn't able to hold the curse word in. "Those _are_ runes. The similarity has to be coincidence. This is alien technology. Then again, these guys use everything they can get their hands on."

Ron piped up, feeling on more solid cognitive footing. "So you don't know what it is, even if those are runes?"

I shot him an evil look.

"No Mr. Ginger. Alien as in from outer space."

"Where?" He asked with blank look on his face.

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione answered, sounding exasperated. "From another planet, possibly from another solar system or galaxy. We've studied this in astronomy."

"Bloody hell, woman, who stays awake in that class besides you?"

That was it. I dropped my left hand and tapped him between the eyes. He didn't see it coming, he couldn't have. He was so shocked that his lips slammed shut.

"You should stay awake in class," I barked, and turned back to my favorite curly-haired girl. "This is a fragment from the energy transfer unit in their spacecraft's propulsion system."

It wasn't an absolutely accurate answer, because the ships are capable of flight in all environments. If you want to use the word "flight," we're not sure of what they do other than pop into and out of existence.

"You seem to know quite a bit about the aliens responsible for this technology, Frank. Would you by any chance have any ideas as to how this fragment found its way into a magically concealed room at a magically concealed school that, as far as we know, has never had any contact with any alien species?"

Damn. I didn't want to get into theory, but a bald-faced lie didn't seem right.

"Their craft might be," I hesitated, "capable of...Goddamn it...moving through other dimensions as a shortcut to where they want to go. We're not sure. Captured craft are few and far between. If one broke down, crashed, or was shot down in your world...See where I'm coming from?"

Hermione was speechless, clearly lost in her own world. And Ron and Harry were both looking to her for answers. It took them a moment to realize that she wouldn't be saying anything.

"So you're suggesting," said Harry, haltingly, "that a witch or wizard came into contact with a downed ship and somehow managed to snag this thing, then stored it in a room full of junk, rather than studying it?"

"That sounds reasonable to me. The only other option is worse: there were enough of them born in your world to construct the thing. Did you ever hear of a zombie invasion, or a plague no one could explain?"

"No, I don't recall hearing of anything in my lifetime, but we have no idea how long that fragment was in the room of requirement." Hermione had recovered. "In any case, speculation gets us nowhere. Frank, you know the most about this. Once we defeat the zombies on the other side of that wall, can you figure out how to get us home?"

I'd been aware of the unwanted guests shooting at the wall for some time. Ten of them, automatic weapons fire, and not too long before a bullet would make it through. Then things would deteriorate quickly, if the bad guys were true to form. They almost always send in a few rounds of idiots before teams that used to be police or military when they were first alive.

The guys on the other side of the wall might be professionals. I didn't know if the kids would be up to it.

"Honestly, I don't know. I promise to do my best for you, one way or another." I put my hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I do not take promises lightly."

Hermione nodded. "Very well. Frank, these zombies seem smarter than those I've read about. Would they notice if I vanish a small hole in the wall. Preferably off to one side, about 1 inch squared?"

"They are smarter than what you read about. When they come back to life, they remember who they were, but they don't care. They're sociopaths obsessed by the need to eat the living. Oh, and they're anywhere from two times to five times faster and stronger than you."

I gave myself the luxury of a deep breath before adding a short primer on their tactics.

"They might notice the hole. They might not. It's a crapshoot."

"If they notice, would they be good enough marksmen to shoot through the hole?"

"Maybe. Let me stand in front of the hole just in case."

"We won't be sacrificing you, Frank. I ask because if they don't notice, or can't shoot through it, I can blow them all up."

"Darling, they're faster. Almost as fast as me. My arm isn't the only thing that works differently. A bullet might annoy the living shit out of me, but it wouldn't kill me."

"Hermione, you might as well let him do it. I recognize a stubborn streak, and his is wider than mine." Harry said, speaking his mind.

With a huff, Hermione nodded, then pointed out where she intended to create the hole.

"Let's do it." I shifted and offered Harry a high five.

Hermione lifted her wand. "Here goes nothing."

"Hermione, wait!" She turned to Harry with an annoyed expression.

"Yes?"

"Cast an illusion first. Then they won't even be able to see that the wall is missing."

"Harry, that's brilliant! But I can't cast it first because I can't see through the wall. I'll have to cast it immediately after and hope for the best.

She practiced a couple of times on the tunnel wall, making sure she could cast them quickly.

"Alright, everyone ready?" She received nods from Harry and Frank, and ignored Ron who was basically sulking a few feet back.

"Evanesco Praecisio." With a flick of the wrist and a shape drawn in midair, the section of wall was gone. A little hole, just big enough to see through. "Illusio murus." She backed away and waited quietly, with her hand held up for silence.

After a moment, she pulled a face and cast one more spell. "Silencio. We want to be able to speak freely. And I think it worked. Frank, would you mind looking through the hole. Make sure you can see them, and hopefully they won't see you."

"Um, don't watch me. I get really embarrassed about this." That got some raised eyebrows.

Broadly, I knew what was on the other side, but a better look was a good idea. I just hated what I had to do to get it.

"You're not watching, right?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shrugged and turned around. He was risking himself for them, the least they could do is honor his request.

"We aren't watching, Frank."

With a sigh, I pulled my right eyeball out, and rolled it down the hole. It stopped before it broke the illusion, and had a look around. I hate having an autonomous eye, but I hated what I saw more.

The Man Scythe was on the other side, and one of the bastards was playing with it. That hurt my feelings.

Another zombie stood apart from the rest, and he was cradling a plasma weapon in his arms. I felt him initiate gun's the warm up cycle. If he used it, the concrete wall would burn through.

"Fuck us all." I called my eye back and shoved it back in the socket. I didn't care that it was a little dirty.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Frank's exclamation got them all to turn around, just in time to see him shove his eye back in the socket.

Hermione's brain seemed to have processed what she had seen the fastest. "You...but...eye...?"

"Another replacement part. Look, there's a guy out there carrying an alien weapon. One shot will turn this wall into molten dirt. A second shot will turn us all into meat candles or solid charcoal. We've got thirty seconds before it charges up."

Before Frank was done with his explanation, Harry raced to the hole, stuck his wand through, and started blasting.

"Bombarda Maxima! Bombarda Maxima! Bombarda Maxima!"

"Hermione, take down the wall, now!"

Hermione, used to following Harry's orders in battle, did as she was told without a second thought.

Harry fired the second the wall disappeared, using the only spell he could cast silently to increase his speed. Three Stupefy charms later, and they were clear.

** - HPDEB - **

"Frank, another wall?"

"No need," I told her, and covered the distance between us and the enemies at full speed.

The bastards were still unconscious when I killed them. I grabbed the Man Scythe, stood up in the middle of the tunnel and flipped off the rest of the motherfuckers.

They shot me. Eight bullets. I dashed back to cover. Why do I tempt fate like this?

The young magicians were mortified.

** - HPDEB - **

They saw Frank twitch, and heard him say "Squirrel," just before he lunged back out into the pile of bodies.

"Wait! What are you doing?" Hermione cried.

Frank returned in between "you" and "doing". He had an oblong object in his arms. It looked like an enormous blood-covered, warty sausage with a gaping hole in one end. The smile that stretched across his face was more disturbing than the heaping pile of dead bodies, or the bullet holes in his clothes.

"I'm making a brilliant tactical decision." Frank replied. "This is the enemy's weapon."

"That's exciting!" Said Harry. He wasn't quite sure why he was excited, but he decided to roll with it anyway.

Frank looked down at the object he was holding, nodded minutely, and pushed a button on the underside of the weapon. It started to hum. Hermione found the noise menacing, but rather exciting as well.

"Is that like one of those gun-things?" Ron asked from his relatively safe position against the wall.

"Yes," Frank answered, drawing out the end of the word into an evil hiss, "it most certainly is, Ginger-Ginger. I'm going to use it, too."

** - HPDEB - **

I turned around and walked back out into the mess we'd made. The rest of the zombies hadn't moved from their original position, except to mill around as if they had nothing better to do. Their little coffee break wouldn't last very much longer.

God knows what the kids thought of what I did next.

"Excuse me!" I hollered. "Time to die."

"Wait!" A zombie yelled. "You're that insane guy that the bosses want so bad, right?"

"Probably!" Why not be honest.

"Great! Let's get him!" The fellow yelled, and they all rushed forward.

No more time for banter, I thought to myself, and aimed the exotic energy weapon down the tunnel.

 _Fire!_

The gun expelled a fulminating glob of blue energy which shot across the distance between me and the oncoming assholes. It didn't just hit one of them, it blew right through his body, and the zombies behind him. Five bodies hit the ground, and shattered like solid charcoal.

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione followed Frank, curious to see what he would do. She wouldn't admit to either Harry or Ron that Frank's offensive abilities were practically an aphrodisiac to her.

As the blue blob sped forward, she made a decision to help Frank deal with the rest. But she really wanted to see what else he could do. That meant no killing for her.

 _Levicorpus!_ She thought.

"Harry, Ron!" Those boys had better come help.

 _Levicorpus!_

"Stupefy! Incarcerous!"

There were just too many to prepare them for Frank. She'd have to take some out. "Bombarda Maxima! Bombarda Maxima!"

** - HPDEB - **

Harry heard Hermione's yell and responded automatically.

He raced forward and just started firing curses. He didn't even really think. Reducto, Bombarda, they both worked. He took out six before he realized there weren't any more left standing. Frank was taking care of those that were down (or floating) but not out.

** - HPDEB - **

Ron heard Hermione's yell and saw Harry take off toward her. Bloody hell he was fast. How had he never noticed before? Ron shook his head and followed. He took time to aim and downed one of the creatures floating in mid-air.

Once again he was late to the battle, but once again, he'd killed one. Ron felt pretty good about his contribution.

** - HPDEB - **

I felt Hermione approach, and knew she'd be helping me whether I needed it or not. Good person, that one.

There were six near me, and I had an awful feeling that the one with the shotgun was going to try and take one of the kids. Couldn't let that happen.

I don't get acrobatic very often, but I needed to take them down at nearly the same time. Very fast mental math happened, and then I ran up the curved wall of the tunnel. When I landed, I was in the middle of the group. The Man Scythe was in my left hand, and my right hand was...very flexible.

I took five heads in half a second, and cut the gun in half. The last kill fell right onto the blade of my darling Man Scythe. I punched through his head with my right hand.

When I was finished, I saw the tied up presents that the youngsters made for me. Zombies in rope bondage, levitating upside down. Wow!

Easy decapitations.

After I was done, I turned back to the kids. Curly was watching me with a look that made me think of an eager puppy.

"Good girl," I told her, without thinking.

The three of them were good together. That was the first time I felt their bond. I can't explain it, but I knew that these kids were born to be together. Formidable singly, but a giant robot when put together.

An image formed in my mind. It worked, believe me.

** - HPDEB - **

Good girl. He'd called her a good girl. Hermione knew she'd need to examine later why that made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

** - HPDEB - **

Harry watched Hermione, expecting an explosion for that comment. Her eyes were wide and there was a flush to her cheeks. But, to his surprise, the expected tirade never came. Rather, a slight grin graced her face and she looked down, shyly. What the hell was going on with Hermione?

More, what was it with the man himself? He's clearly insane, but there's something about him.

Frank was tall, wearing black clothes, with short hair that might have been brown in better light, and intense eyes. There was a little beard under his bottom lip. Truly, he looked like a modern rogue, a pirate from the future.

Harry nearly saw the ineffable something that surrounded their comrade in arms, but couldn't explain it.

** - HPDEB - **

Ron saw the last zombie get up from under the pile of offal, and then a blur when he moved.

"Oi, there's…"

Too late. The final enemy had Hermione by the throat.

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione gasped, it was as if claws had appeared at her throat with the speed of a spell.

"Don't think about moving, you atrocious little cunt. I don't want you. I want the scythe man."

She saw the look on Frank's face and hoped she'd never see anything like it ever again. It was an expression that made Voldemort seem like the kindly old lady who lived next door.

"I'll kill her if you move, you fucking bastard," the zombie snarled, "You're not that fast. That goes for the rest of you, too."

** - HPDEB - **

I'd wondered if there was one left. There'd been a lot of movement, blood, and noise. A single individual can get lost in that hullabaloo, especially when they have a low body temperature to begin with.

"Okay, Mister Fast," I said quietly, "what do you want if it isn't the girl? Me?"

"You. They'll be here soon. We were supposed to keep you here until _they_ come. All you have to do is stand still, and my job is done. They'll choose me to evolve."

"Them," I said, "the little orange guys, huh?"

The zombie giggled like a loon. Grand. He's insane on top of being insane.

"Yes. Just you stay where the Hell you are. After they take you away, I'll play with these three. I'm not choosy."

I saw Harry flinch, and I told him to stay still. "That goes for you, too, Ronald, hold still."

Ron did exactly what I expected him to, and exactly what I needed him to: he got pissed off. What a loud and wonderful distraction!

Me? I moved.

** - HPDEB - **

All Hermione felt was a blast of air. There was a whisper with it.

"Not with my Curly."

Then she felt cold blood fountain across her head and back. The hand around her throat let go.

Soaking wet, she turned around. The zombie's body was on the ground with the rest of them, but split to the waist. Frank standing a few meters away with his back towards her.

"That was a bad thing to do, you know, putting me in a pinch like that." She heard him say.

"Sir...Frank?" Hermione wanted to reach out. Something wasn't right.

"Shh. Give me just a moment more." He replied. "Ah. There."

When he turned around, he held the zombie's head, spine still attached, in his hand. Slowly, his eyes faded from burning insanity to something more easily understood.

He spoke again.

"In the French Revolution, when they were beheading people daily, a doctor observed the heads when they fell." His voice was monotone and very quiet. "Some reported that the heads moved their lips and that the eyes followed objects for up to sixteen seconds after the guillotine's blade fell."

Harry, being a little closer to Hermione than Ron, heard Frank speaking. It chilled him to his bones. He'd seen his share of Dementors, Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself, but never someone who slipped into darkness and slipped back into the light a moment later.

It was a terrible thing to behold, a man cursed to live that way.

Frank crushed the head in his left hand and let the blood and brains seep between his fingers.

** - HPDEB - **

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

It was all I could say to them about it. They hadn't run screaming, so that was a plus.

I don't know what to do around civilians, or pacifists, much less "normal" wizards from a parallel universe.

"We have a larger problem on the way. The aliens are coming for me themselves. This means mechanized weapon systems, and God only knows how many Flatheads."

** - HPDEB - **

"What," Harry began, "is a 'Flathead'? I doubt you mean the kind of screw."

"No, that's what we call the Progeny — that's the name of the species — evolved footsoldiers. They're seven to eight feet tall, pale, naked, absurdly strong, and look like someone pushed their foreheads flat...The Mayans, I think, used to tie boards to babies' heads to get a similar effect."

"That's horrible, that is!" Ron cried. "You don't make a baby's head flat!"

"How much time do we have?" Harry asked.

"I don't know." Answered Frank. "Anything from minutes to an hour."

"Do we fight, or do we run away?" Harry was hitting his stride.

"I don't know yet. I'd rather see if we can get you home before it's an issue."

** - HPDEB - **

I fingered a bullet hole in my shirt absentmindedly. Curly was lost somewhere between her own ears, slowly drying. Ronald was looking uncomfortable, apparently his native state of being. Harry seemed to be full of energy and looking for adventure. Good.

"Harry, bring that plasma weapon. We're going to have a sit down somewhere less gooey." I pointed, he hefted, and we walked back to the smaller tunnel. "We need to look at that amulet too. If there's a way to get out out of here, we need to find it."

The other two followed in a minute or two. Harry and I had already sat down by my bag of nasty tricks and the Man Scythe. The knobby tube rested on the concrete between our knees, and I started hunting for a seam. I wanted to see how the power system worked, and if there was a component comparable to the one Harry carried.

Ron and Hermione wandered over and sat down. I patted Hermione's knee, she'd been through and experienced something rather awful. I vaguely registered that she was clean and filed it away for future contemplation.

Ginger needed something, and I took a wild stab at it. "Hey, Ron, thank you for your help back there. You distracted that asshole exactly how I needed and at the best time ever. I couldn't have saved Hermione as easily if you hadn't acted."

He heard me and perked up so fast it looked like he'd snorted something illegal.

"Thank you." He said. "Anything else I can do?"

I nodded and asked Harry to give him the "amulet" to hold so we could reference it if necessary.

"Hermione, are you up to trying to decipher it? It might help us." I wasn't sure it was covered in the runes she was used to, but better to have her occupied.

"Yes, Sir."

"Harry, hold the gun still. I didn't feel a seam before, and I need to cut the thing open to see how it works."

The young man clamped his hands on it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. A little revved up, are we?

I ran my right index finger down the case of the weapon, and it appeared to cut through. I repeated the action on the near side, and at both ends. When I shifted the housing, it moved.

"Good. Does anyone have a spell that can levitate this piece straight up in the air?"

Hermione whispered, "Wingardium Leviosa," and the section of warty composite flew upwards. Harry chided her for moving it so quickly, but I shushed him.

The inside of the weapon was familiar in the way that a car engine is familiar if you're not a mechanic. I saw familiar mechanical parts, organic bits, a little tank of blue shit that seemed to be a smaller version of the power source they always used...the same crap they pumped through the pilots of their aircraft.

At the other end was the emitter, and that looked exactly the same as the equivalent pieces of their cannons, just smaller. Familiar is good.

"D' you see that bit?" Ron asked, pointing into the gun's insides. "It looks like the amulet, but a pentagon, not a circle."

Sure enough, three "glands" after the power supply, towards the zapping hole, was a piece of stone trapped in a frame. That was new, I'd never seen the inside of a smaller weapon, just the larger pre-disassembled ones. It was right in the center of what I assumed was the pre-fire chamber.

"Energy focus, do you think?" Hermione asked.

"Seems logical to me."

She whispered, "Can we take it out?"

I didn't feel any power flowing through the unit, so I tried to wiggle the frame out. It popped free easily. Much like the other piece the kids brought, it was carved with runes.

"This one is glowing like the amulet was," Harry noticed.

"Don't touch it Harry!" Hermione yelled.

"Are you saying this is charged up somehow?" I asked. "I don't see anything."

"It is glowing," Ron confirmed, "and the same color."

"Fine." I held it up to Hermione. "What do you see?"

She cast Lumos, and examined the pentagonal stone in great detail. Her lips moved a bit, but no sound came out. Then she turned to the stone in Ron's hand and gave it a similarly thorough reading.

"The new stone contains runes for 'enemy', 'fire', 'wound' and 'defend'. Harry's amulet has 'travel', 'time', 'home' and 'people' in corresponding locations."

"Okay. You've said that the amulet stone isn't glowing. Does that mean that it has expended the energy it contained?"

Harry spoke up, "I think so. I mean, it was glowing before we came, so some energy must have been used."

"Put our stone into the weapon." Hermione cut right to the chase. "It might absorb what it needs."

I had some serious reservations about that idea, but she hadn't suggested I pull the trigger. If anyone was going to do that, I'd walk around the corner, stand in the bodies, and wait for the explosion. Without that major concern, I didn't have a problem with seeing if the circular rock fit in the frame. It did.

"Well, go on then!" The young lady had a distinctly bossy streak. "Put that whole bit into the slot."

I shot her a dirty look and dropped the stone and frame into the gun. No one exploded. That's a plus!

"Now," Hermione began, clearly much more at home looking at the universe from a scientific viewpoint, "do you simply pull a trigger, or does the weapon have some sort of 'warm up,' before it is used?"

I nodded. "There's a button on the other side that charges the weapon before you pull the trigger."

"Wonderful! Push the button."

"Excuse me, did you just tell me to push the button. The same button that starts pumping exotic energy through an exotic system that belches blue fire when you pull the trigger?"

She looked at me as if I'd asked why water is blue, and confirmed that she wanted me to push the button.

"If you're wrong, I'll live through this, but the three of you might not." It was a concise way to express my concern, if a self-centered one.

"We're fine with that." Hermione answered for them, but the boys didn't look convinced.

I pushed the button anyway.

"Oi! The rock's starting to glow! Good idea, Hermione!" Ron said. I'm not sure he noticed that the barrel of the weapon was pointed right at him. Poor survival skills.

"Yes," Harry agreed, "but not very brightly."

"Alright, touch me," Hermione directed. "I'm going to touch the stone, and if it transports us, I don't want anyone left behind."

The boys complied. Her hands were free, but she used my knee for support when she leaned over to touch the rock.

"Hey, why are you touching me?" I asked.

"Because," she replied, "I think we might need you."

"What?" I got the question out, and realized that I wasn't paying attention to her hand.

Her finger made contact with stone, and everything vanished in a flash of blue light.


	4. Chapter 4

I didn't die. I did wake up, but it wasn't in the tunnel. There was an old wood floor under my face, made from quartersawn oak, impregnated with hundreds of years worth of wax. Within sight were a million furniture feet, bottoms of crates, boxes, urns, and occasional taxidermy projects.

The alien weapon was resting just out of reach. I was glad of that in an abstract kind of way.

"When I get up from here," I slurred, "somebody better have a good reason for this. Urgh."

"Sir, are you alright?" Hermione asked after she knelt down beside my head.

"I think I need to vomit, and I can see up your skirt."

She smacked me. On the bright side, I didn't throw up.

Harry helped me into a sitting position. The Man Scythe was with me, and so was my tactical bag. Those were a big comfort, but they didn't do a Hell of a lot for the vexation I would be expressing as soon as the world stopped wobbling.

"I've never seen someone have problems like that when traveling by Portkey."

"Ron, he's probably never done this before. And I don't know how Muggles typically react to them." Harry was defending me. Nice.

All of a sudden, I felt like myself again. I suppose the nanotechnology pulled itself together or something.

"One of you gets to tell me why you kidnapped me, and how you're going to get me home. I'll give you thirty seconds before I peel the answers out of you. Twenty-nine."

Hermione stood ramrod-straight and started explaining.

"You are in the Room of Requirement. This is where Harry found the stone that transported us to you." She spoke clearly, I don't think she wanted to have any chance that I'd misunderstand. "The Room of Requirement's magic is that it gives you what you need when you need it."

I kept expecting her to salute, but she kept on explaining.

"Harry asked for something that would help us discover... Erm... Something that would help us defeat Voldemort. The stone which took us to you was an item in the room created. It makes sense that you will help us defeat Voldemort."

"Fine. You could have asked, or told me about this before WOOSH."

"I wasn't sure you would agree to come, and according to you, we were short on time. Most likely too short on time for a proper explanation. I can, however, send you back the same way we brought you here. I'm terribly sorry if I made a decision that has affected you in a bad way."

The young woman actually bowed her head. Talk about sincerity! It reduced my pique by twenty-five percent.

"So, you feel there's a reasonable chance I can go home again. Magic is real. The room provides what is needed. I'm making these statements based on what you've told me. Are they correct?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Fine." I stood up. "Nobody dies today. I'm willing to let you convince me that your theory is correct, Curly."

Everyone relaxed. I didn't notice that Ron had been covering me with his wand. He put it into a pocket inside his robe the moment I saw it.

"Thank you, Frank," Harry said with a perplexed expression, "um...I feel like I should call you Mister, but I don't know your last name."

"Stewart. Frank Stewart. Don't stand on ceremony, though. First name is fine."

"Harry Potter. Thank you, Mr. Stewart."

"Hermione Granger, Sir."

"Ron Weasley."

I nodded at the trio and asked what was next on the itinerary.

** - HPDEB - **

"We have to take him to see Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, "that should be the very first thing."

Ron gave him a sidelong glance and offered his thoughts.

"Yeh, but that means he's walking around the halls with us. Sort of stands out, doesn't he?"

They watched Frank look around, pause, and look up to the ceiling. Then he said, "Hey, Room! I don't suppose you've got any large robes hanging around, do you?"

"That was direct," Hermione commented, "but you're not a wizard, the room probably won't work for you. Then again, I don't know that there's ever been a Muggle in Hogwarts to test that."

"There's my cloak." Harry smiled. "He can walk beside us that way!"

"True." Hermione agreed.

"Brilliant." Said Ron.

Their guest looked mystified. He picked up his large curved weapon, did something to the handle, and folded the blade down so that it nestled in the frame. Then he put it behind his back. It seemed to click into place and stay there. He walked over to the alien gun, unzipped his shoulder bag, and put it inside.

"We can debate this all day, but we might as well get people used to seeing a stranger. I might be here a while." Frank shrugged, and put his black bag over the other shoulder. "Let's go."

"Mr. Stewart, wait!"

He turned to Hermione. "Yes?"

"You really can't go out looking like that. We'll have far too many questions to answer."

"Unless you want me parading around naked, this will have to do."

Hermione blushed madly, and tried to keep her mind on the task at hand. "That isn't what I mean. Scourgify!"

** - HPDEB - **

I felt an odd sensation, almost like a breeze fluttering over me. When I looked down, my clothes were clean. I sniffed at them. They didn't smell fabulous, but they were better than they'd have been covered in blood.

"That's a nice trick, Curly."

"It's a cleaning spell, Mr. Stewart. Allow me a moment to fix the holes." She walked up to me and started examining my shirt. At each hole, she twirled her wand slightly and whispered, "Reparo." I watched the fabric knit itself back together.

"Thanks. That's a big help. Now, let's go."

** - HPDEB - **

The Golden Trio were stunned when he turned around, saw the door, and began walking towards it. They protested mightily, but didn't try to stop him.

"He's really gonna do it!" Ron squeaked. "I don't believe this!"

Sure enough, Frank opened the door and stepped out into the hall. He looked around and commented on the wonderful architecture. With a quick scourgify each for Ron and Harry, the trio followed.

Much to Harry, Ron and Hermione's chagrin, the first person they saw was Professor McGonagall. Doom on two feet.

Frank saw her too, and actually waved.

"Excuse me, ma'am, the kids tell me I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore. Where can I find his office?"

McGonagall's glasses almost twitched. "This is very irregular. Children, who is this man?"

"Frank Stewart," he answered for himself as he approached her. "I appear to be a guest, thanks to my young friends here. Pleased to meet you…"

"Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. Guest? What is going on here?"

Frank held out his hand. She looked at it as though it might explode but shook it anyway.

"Well. Ah." Harry tried to put useful words together. "The Room of Requirement, you see."

"Oh." McGonagall sighed and speared them all with a hard look. "Why is it when something happens it is always you three? Very well, take your guest to the headmaster then. I shall expect a full report from the three of you later."

The Professor gave the stranger a curt nod, and continued on her way.

When she was out of earshot, Frank said to them, "She's amazing. I feel guilty for breathing around her. So intense!"

Hermione, Ron and Harry looked at him like he was certifiably insane.

"Just come with me and don't talk to anyone else." Hermione took his hand and pulled him down the hallway. The boys followed.

** - HPDEB - **

I might be wrong, but I think we walked forever. Loads of staircases. Sure, I know precisely how far we trudged, but who cares.

The architecture of the place was marvelous, all old castle stuff. I wanted to swashbuckle and say useless words like "Verily!"

When we reached the Gargoyle Hallway, I stood in awe. Everything about the lines and forms of the chamber led your eyes to this gorgeous stone monstrosity squatting in front of a wall. Huge! Formidable! Gorgeous!

The kids walked right up to it, but I held back a little. I don't know why it intimidated me that way, but it did. It made their Professor McGonagall look like your peachy-cheeked nanny, the one who always has sweets.

Okay, that was my childhood. Pay no attention to me.

** - HPDEB - **

"Acid Pops!" said Harry confidently. But nothing happened.

"Harry, that was the password months ago, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has changed it by now."

"Yeah, you're right, Hermione. Guess it's time for a guessing game again. Cockroach clusters? Don't look at me like that, Hermione, he's used it before. Er...Toothflossing Stringmints? Ice Mice? Blood Pops? Exploding Bon Bons? Bertie Botts?"

Hermione calmly stepped in front of Harry. "Ms. Gargoyle, would you kindly ask the Headmaster if we may visit him? It is a bit of an emergency."

"Names?" asked the gargoyle.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her gawking companions. "Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Frank Stewart."

The gargoyle nodded and went still.

"Hermione, how did you know to do that? Or that the gargoyle is a girl?"

"How long will it take you two to read _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"The headmaster will see you now." The gargoyle sprang to one side as the wall behind her split in two.

"Thank you." Hermione led the others up the spiral staircase and knocked on the door. After being bid to enter, she led them all inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Their headmaster looked like the eminently reasonable British grandfather you never had, crossed with a hippie and Merlin. He looked at me over the rim of his glasses from where he sat, behind one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture I've ever seen.

"It never ceases to amaze me, how the three of you are at the center-most point of unprecedented occurrences." Dumbledore looked them over, and turned his attention back to me. "And now you've brought a guest to Hogwarts. Good afternoon."

I felt compelled to answer him. Maybe I've got a weakness for older men with British accents. Makes no sense, I'm heterosexual.

"Good day, Sir," I replied. "Thank you for seeing us."

He nodded and fixed Harry with a look that could drill holes in steel. "Do tell me this tale, Mister Potter."

Harry did exactly that, and answered other questions when the Professor wanted clarification.

"Such an oddity. Minutes, even a few hours of time travel is hardly new to me. But twenty-two years in the future, and across an ocean as well!" The old man shook his head, apparently there was something about magical time travel I didn't know. "Children, you mustn't speak of this particular aspect of our guest's origin. Miss Granger, you know well the rules. Please see to it that Harry and Mr. Weasley are well-informed."

The kids nodded their heads enthusiastically. Clearly, mucking with the timeline was frowned on here.

"If you'll pardon me, Frank...May I call you by your first name?"

"Of course Professor Dumbledore." Like I was going to tell him no!

"Thank you, Frank." He turned back to Harry. "Now then, what makes you believe that Frank's presence is not some sort of Death Eater trick?"

"Well," Ron spoke up, out of turn, "he's a Muggle. Not a lick of magic in him."

"Professor," Hermione said, distracting him from chastising Ron, "Frank is not a Death Eater!"

"Why do you say so, Miss Granger?"

"Well, beyond the alien technology that no Death Eater has been known to have, Sir, he saved my life. No Death Eater would do that."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore stared at me, and I think I felt it down to my toes. "Why did you save Hermione?"

"A zombie...What do you call them, 'Inferi'?" I asked.

"Well, it's not really an Inferius, as it wasn't raised by magic. And it clearly had its own mind still intact. It spoke to me." Hermione replied.

Dumbledore held up his hand. "Miss Granger, while I appreciate the lesson, I don't think now is the best time. Shall we simply say that calling the thing an Inferius gets the picture across?"

The kids nodded, so I kept going. "He tried to use her as a hostage to keep us from leaving, so his masters could come for me. I disliked the thought of a nice girl being in danger, so when Ron distracted him, I killed the bastard. Hermione wasn't in danger anymore."

"Professor, he tore the Inferi's head off, spine and all!"

"Well. Thank you Ronald." Dumbledore said graciously. "Hermione, you are suggesting that Frank is not a Death Eater because he is capable of doing good?"

"Not precisely, Professor Dumbledore. Death Eaters are perfectly capable of being good. They are, after all, perfectly lovely, in many cases, to their spouses and children. However, were he a Death Eater, he would not have bothered to save me. After all, I was in a position that most would not be able to aid. He has also yet to use magic of any form, nor does he have a wand. A Death Eater would not be out without a wand, acting like a Muggle."

"Harry, would you like to offer an opinion?" Dumbledore leaned forward.

"Well...I think that if he meant us harm, we wouldn't be here to talk about it." Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable speaking that way to Professor Dumbledore.

"It seems that the children are convinced of your intentions, and Hermione believes that you are a source of help for Harry. How do you feel about it all?"

"Professor," I began, "I'm not entirely chuffed by being abducted, but there is a certain logic to the Room of Requirement...assuming that no one is lying to me. Harry touched the stone, which led them directly to me, we engaged in a trust-building experience, and I helped them find a way home."

"A 'trust-building experience'," the old man arched his eyebrows and frowned, "is a euphemism for…"

"Helping one another against a common enemy." That was my answer. "One way or another, I'm here now, a non-wizard, and am willing to stay long enough to see if Hermione is right."

"Professor," Harry said, "I forgot to mention one thing. Not long after we arrived, Hermione used Muffliato so he wouldn't hear our conversation. He heard us anyway."

I felt that awful splat of shit hitting the fan. The old man did not look the least bit happy about what he heard.

"You are truly a Muggle?" Dumbledore stood up, drew his wand from his robe, pointed it at me, and said, "Incarcerous."

The next thing I knew, I'm wrapped in rope from head to toe. An older wizard with alternative lifestyle interests? Hm.

"Now, if you are a Muggle, you will not be able to move until I release you. It would seem this is not something you're immune to."

I heard him tapping his foot. Clearly, he was trying to figure out what to do next.

He made a decision and explained himself, "In 20 seconds, I will cast a strong stinging charm on you. To avoid that, you must free yourself. Let the test begin."

Harry, Ron and Hermione protested. Dumbledore shushed them and started counting.

My right arm stretched under the ropes, narrowed down to a long blade, hooked the lower loop and I pulled straight up. The rope parted to my elbow, and the rest dropped off. I shook out my hand and it resumed a normal appearance.

The old wizard and I locked eyes. I shifted my weight slightly, better to move if it came to that.

"Professor Dumbledore, do not cast a spell. This is the only warning you will get."

I was profoundly grateful that he stood still. His eyes were wide, and he looked me up and down rapidly.

"Wand-less spell casting? Diffindo perhaps?" He sounded eager for answers. "Were the ropes cut, or severed in another manner? What about your arm?"

"It wasn't a spell. I cut them."

That's when Hermione spoke up and tried to explain that I'm partly machine, pointing excitedly at my arm. The old professor sat back on the corner of his desk, and clearly tried to absorb what he was hearing.

"Truly, Frank? You aren't a wizard?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, I am a Muggle...Not the sort you're used to, but a Muggle just the same."

"You must tell me the story. I have never encountered anyone like you in my lifetime."

"I have no issue with expanding your knowledge. That being said Professor, from a completely practical perspective, I'm a penniless guest, and I'm attached to eating three meals a day. A roof over my head is optional, but I prefer having one. I feel at quite a disadvantage."

"Young man," Dumbledore stood up to his full height, exuding offended sensibilities, "no guest at Hogwarts will go uncared for. Rest assured, you will be provided with accommodations, food, and a house elf."

"Thank you, sir." What in the name of Louis the Fourteenth is a House Elf? I made a mental note to ask Curly about that later.

Harry spoke up. "If you need money, I can loan you some."

"I appreciate it, Scruffy. Professor, it just came to mind that I need a favor from you already."

Dumbledore looked very intrigued, and bid me continue.

"I'm carrying quite a few Muggle weapons, and the alien item, in this bag over my shoulder. They could be very dangerous to people who have never seen anything like them. Is there somewhere I could leave this bag that's secure?"

"I shall keep them safe for you myself. Your consideration does you credit."

I put the bag on the floor, and unzipped it. There were four grenades, a first aid kit, ammunition, and a large Tanto in there. I added what I was carrying on my person — .45 pistol (I pulled the clip and ejected the bullet that was already in the chamber), two combat knives, and two more full clips — to the bag and zipped it up. I kept the Man Scythe and a pocket multi-tool.

"I appreciate this very, very much." I pushed the bag across the floor with my foot.

"The object on your back?" Dumbledore asked. "Is that a weapon as well?"

Ron and Harry nodded vigorously. Thanks boys.

"This is almost a part of my soul. I don't leave it behind unless absolutely necessary. Believe me when I say that I will not use it except in self defense, and then with care for anyone near me."

"He's really brilliant with it!" Ron said.

Dumbledore shot Ginger a look, and the lad quieted right down.

"Children, one at a time, tell me everything that happened in Frank's world. Leave nothing out. I should like your unique observations." Dumbledore leaned back against his desk, and it was clear that no one would be dismissed until he was satisfied.

** - HPDEB - **

"There is the matter of your immunity to a spell. That is unheard of from a Muggle, and rare (without preparation) from a wizard." Hermione heard Dumbledore say. She suspected that there would be quite a bit of investigation into that complicated problem. Mister Stewart might survive it. She hoped he would.

"Sir," Frank said, "I've never been exposed to magic, so I have no idea what to expect or what should happen. All I know is that I clearly heard the three of them discussing our situation after Hermione said 'Muffliato'."

Professor Dumbledore tapped his thigh with the wand in his hand, contemplating the unprecedented immunity.

"I believe you and I should test the boundaries of this ability of yours. I should also like to learn more about you and where you come from. It sounds the world is a terrible mess, two decades from now. Would you care to join me tomorrow that we might get to know one another better and plumb your secrets?"

Frank bowed, he was quite gracious before Dumbledore, and said that he looked forward to it.

"Grand, young man! Now, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I am fairly certain you all know the location of the guest tower across from the painting of some drunken knights?"

They all nodded.

"I leave it to you three to escort Mr. Stewart there. Frank, as a Muggle, you will need this key to enter your room. I'll have Pippy meet you there. He will aid you as necessary. I shall see you all for dinner."

** - HPDEB - **

Grand, I get a servant, of the elvish kind. I had to wonder if Pippy looked like Liv Tyler's Arwen. I wouldn't mind that!

My young friends escorted me out of Dumbledore's office and up a few floors to the guest room assigned by Professor Dumbledore. As we walked, they mentioned that it was not very far from their dormitory. I nodded. I had no idea where I was.

There was a good chance that my brain was making a map of wherever I walked, but I had other things on my mind. I would find out later that it had been, thank goodness.

They pointed out a portrait of a rather large lady as we meandered by. It was perfectly three dimensional and in gorgeous color. Hermione even waved to her.

"Good evening, children, Sir." Out of politeness, shocked to my toenails, I stopped and said, "Hello."

Turns out her name is Portia. Lovely girl, likes to drink. Animated AI paintings? Ghosts? I'd be sure to ask about it later.

"I never once thought to ask her name," said Hermione as we walked away. "She's always referred to as the Fat Lady. I feel rather silly." She shook her head.

"In any case, students are divided into one of four houses when they arrive at school for the first time." Hermione explained, leaping right into answers to questions I hadn't asked yet.

Harry picked it up. "There's Gryffindor: that's us. Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw. And Slytherin."

"Each of the houses is named for a founder of Hogwarts. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin," Hermione added.

"The houses are also our teams for sport," Ron said. "Harry here is the Captain of our Quidditch team, and I'm the Keeper."

"Quidditch is a sport," I mumbled, "Harry's Captain. Ron keeps things."

Not long after that, we came to a smaller staircase. Hermione pointed out the painting Dumbledore had mentioned. A bunch of knights were drinking at a table, and appeared to be very rowdy. We passed them and went up two flights. At the top of the stairs was a short hallway that dead-ended.

We stopped at the first door on the right.

"This is the one," my young curly-haired guide announced, and waved her wand.

The door opened on a well appointed room...if you're a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism and striving for an accurate 16th century master bedroom. Which isn't to say that there weren't more modern additions. There were a few torches, a lovely tea service, a steamer trunk, and a pleasant-looking quilt on the bed.

A desk in the corner looked to house an ink well and quill. There was a door against the far wall that I hoped led to a bathroom. The carpet was rather plush, it would probably feel lovely barefoot.

"I wonder when Pippy will arrive. Odd name for a valet, isn't it?"

I didn't realize that I'd be trying not to wet my pants a few seconds later.


	6. Chapter 6

Professor Dumbledore invited me to dine at the head table when we met him in the hallway on the way to dinner in the Great Hall. I protested mightily.

"You are a most singular guest, you know." He smiled and tried to put me at ease.

"You could keep me in my room, or otherwise restrict my activities." It was a reasonable solution to a potentially dangerous guest, from my perspective anyway.

The professor chuckled. "The children need to be aware of your presence, and certainly will be in very short order one way or another. Oh, by the by, I heard that your reaction to Pippy was quite strong. All the house elves are talking about it."

I winced. It wasn't a moment I was particularly proud of.

** - HPDEB - **

Pippy had appeared in front of them all as soon as his name was called.

Frank saw the house elf and shrieked; he seemed to levitate backwards, and ended up behind everyone. Harry had never heard so many swear words at one time, definitely not strung together with other concepts, and uttered in one breath.

"What has Pippy done wrong?!" The house elf cried. His little face was the very picture of a broken heart.

Hermione knelt down and stopped Pippy from getting too close to Frank, who had backed himself up into the corner.

"Pippy," Hermione said softly, "you haven't done anything wrong. Frank is a Muggle guest, and he's never seen a house elf before. He's also a bit high-strung from the look of things."

"Oh!" Pippy nodded vigorously. "Pippy will introduce himself, then. Sir, I am Pippy, a house elf of Hogwarts. Pippy will be taking care of you, Sir, while you is at Hogwarts."

Harry watched Frank come down from tiptoes. How could a man who went around killing zombies be so terrified of a house elf? House elves are wonderful, kind, and terribly useful!

"I'm sorry Pippy," Frank said, "all this is a little surprising. I've never seen, or met, an elf before."

"Oh. Pippy doesn't know where you is from, but is pleased you is here now." The elf smiled. "You is calling Pippy if you is needing anything."

Frank nodded, and the little elf disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived. Frank had many questions, Harry was sure of it, and fully expected to be pressed for answers.

** - HPDEB - **

On the way to dinner, I realized the longer I spoke with Dumbledore, the more charming he got. His eyes twinkled as if there was something amusing happening, but not in a way that makes you look like an idiot.

"Really, I don't want to be a bother. Sitting with the students is fine with me. Dining in my room is absolutely pleasant, too."

"Hermione, Harry and Ron would never stand for such a thing. Do relax and be our guest." He said with a smile, and then leaned over and whispered, "If you enjoy creating a stir wherever you go, this is an excellent opportunity!"

I think I blushed.

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione thought Frank's discomfort at being brought to the fore was rather charming. She wouldn't have believed that an adult could blush that way until she saw it.

Somewhere inside her mind, a part she rarely visited, was some sort of disappointment that their guest wouldn't be at the Gryffindor table with them. It was almost as though she felt possessive.

"He's our guest! We brought him here, the Amazing Murder Muggle, and we plan to associate with him and teach him our ways!" Her niggling feelings seemed to say.

"Harry," she turned to her old friend and whispered, "do you feel strange, Frank being taken from us?"

He scratched his head, seemed to think for a moment, and replied, "I dunno. I might've liked to talk to him more today."

"Well, y'know, the Professor won't keep him. There's plenty of time later." Ron said.

About that time, they ran into the great push and shove that accompanied every meal at Hogwarts. This time, people made way for Professor Dumbledore, and cast curious glances at the man who appeared to be his guest.

"Stop your gawking!" Hermione snarled at them. "He's a guest, so be on your best behavior."

"Yeah!" Ron added. "He's a very nice man, even if he is a great big killer!"

She watched the world stop, and then restart in slow motion. Frank turned back towards them, put his hands on his hips and gave Ron a terrible stare.

" _Ronald_ ," Frank growled gently, "did you really have to say that?"

Ron tried to defend himself. "Well, you do have that big weapon on your back. Might give people some kinda hint."

Harry looked at Hermione with panic in his eyes. She understood his fear: Ron's temper was about to flare up.

She wanted to try to talk Ron down before something nasty happened, but it looked like she was too late: Frank had walked back to them.

Ron was only slightly shorter than the man who stood in front of him, but lankier by far. While Frank looked like he could knock out a professional boxer, Ron looked like he'd have trouble arranging his elbows for a proper punch.

"Ron." Frank said quietly.

"What?"

"Are you an idiot?" Frank asked cooly.

Hermione winced.

Ron got right up in Frank's face. She could tell his temper had him now. "Whaddya mean am I an idiot?"

"He's going to die," Harry said. "Can we stop this?"

Hermione shocked herself. "He won't kill Ron. He's going to teach him a lesson."

"I was counting on you to help me make a reasonable impression with the student body. Take a look around and tell me what you see." Frank ordered.

** - HPDEB - **

Ron looked around. Everyone was as far away from him as they could be, even Harry and Hermione. The looks on their faces were full of worry.

"Everyone looks worried," Ron reported. "Why's that?"

"You labeled me a killer," Frank answered, "and now they expect me to kill you."

Frank looked up at the students, fully three-quarters of them, and asked, "By a raise of hands, how many people expect Ron to die in the next minute or so? Probably in a sad and messy manner."

The majority of Ron's peers raised their hands. Ron's skin lost its rosy color. He turned around to face Frank.

"Are you gonna kill me?"

Frank shook his head, turned away, and walked up to the head table.

** - HPDEB - **

I kept walking towards the table at the front of the room. Out of nowhere, an enormous person appeared. Not just big. Not just Andre the Giant. This person was six Andre the Giants. He stopped me dead in my tracks without even touching me.

"Good evenin'." Mister Gigantic rumbled. "Fair bi' o' engaging the young ones you just did."

"Erm." I said.

"Taught him a fine lesson. I'm Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds here at Hogwarts."

He offered me his hand — it was the size of my whole upper body — and I shook it.

"Frank Stewart. At the moment, I'm a professional guest."

Hagrid roared with laughter. "That's the best one I heard all day! Let's introduce you 'round and you'll have some dinner."

I was introduced to Professor Snape first, a hook-nosed, unpleasant looking man. His hair was black, shoulder length, and needed a good washing. I disliked him on sight, and I think the feeling was mutual.

I want to say that I saw a halo around him, ugly and pulsing...But with the day I'd been having, I just chalked it up to stress-induced hallucinations.

Next was Professor McGonagall, whom I'd encountered before. A chilly reception there, too.

Professor Trelawney. She was quite happy to meet me, and was abashed that she hadn't seen me coming when she scryed in the tub earlier. I nodded and said that sometimes the Universe just tosses you a surprise for fun. That got a giggle.

Horace Slughorn came after Trelawny, and he was quite a pip.

"This here is Professor Burbage, she teaches 'Muggle Studies," Hagrid pointed me towards the slightly dowdy little woman.

"My pleasure, Professor. We might have some common interests," I said.

"Charmed, Sir," she replied. Her smile lit up her face.

"Finally, here's Professor Flitwick. He teaches charms and the like."

Flitwick was a little person, but there was more going on than his size. He didn't look entirely human. My senses lit up like a bonfire: none of his vital signs were normal.

The little teacher nodded towards me, and dismissed me out of hand. Delightful.

Hagrid led me to my chair at the far right side of the table, right next to Snape. I reminded myself that I've been through worse than this, and planted my ass on the chair.

Dumbledore reached the table, and made a friendly little speech before dinner. Then he put me on the spot.

"Tonight is a very interesting night," he began, "because we have a rather unusual guest from far away."

 _Shit_ , I knew what was coming next.

"Would you care to introduce yourself, Mr. Stewart?" The bastard smirked behind his beard and regarded me with those twinkly eyes.

I stood up, and took a deep breath. I could feel McGonagall's disapproval, Snape's annoyance, and a hundred sets of curious eyes bearing down on me.

"Good evening. My name is Frank Stewart, and I'm pleased to be a guest at your school." I smiled at everyone, and hoped it didn't reflect how I actually felt. "Professor Dumbledore has nothing but high praise for you all, and I am pleased to take him at his word. Thank you for your hospitality."

I sat my ass right back down. Dumbledore applauded gently, and the student body did the same.

Dinner was served, and it was enormous. Sadly, all the veg were boiled to mush. Traditional UK food. The bread was really good, though, and the butter tasted like it came from happy cows.

"Where are you from, Mister Stewart?"

I could hear the sneer in Snape's question.

"The United States. Washington, DC area."

"I see." Snape nodded. "Do you attend, or teach, at Ilvermorny, then?"

"No. I'm something of a soldier, assigned to unusually dangerous missions." It was the best way I could describe it on short notice, and briefly.

"You're an Auror, then? Or whatever you yanks call them."

"A what?"

"Are you," Snape paused, pumped the tank full of unleaded Drama, and continued, "a _Muggle_?"

"So I'm told."

You could have heard a pin drop. Until Snape turned to Dumbledore. "What is the meaning of this?" He hadn't spoken loudly, but he commanded the attention of the entire head table. Useful talent.

"Oh, Severus, do calm down. We can discuss it later. In the meantime, be gracious to our new friend."

"Friend? He's a…"

"Mister Stewart is completely welcome here. In fact, he looks quite interested in the bread rolls. Do pass him the butter crock." Dumbledore said, and turned back to his plate. Slices of roast floated over and settled neatly on it.

"I take it, Professor Snape, that non-magical people are not exactly your favorite." I scored a roll from a nearby basket. Dumbledore inspired me. "Would you pass me the butter?"

Numbly, he shoved it towards me.

"And how, pray tell, did you arrive at Hogwarts?"

Whoa, my dear Professor Disdain, are you yet living? I could have cut his derision with a rolled up newspaper. He was a master of eloquent tonal variations.

"Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley managed to transport themselves to where I was, and brought me back with them."

Snape frowned and furrowed his brow. "How delightful for you."

I nodded and continued, "Actually, they were a great help. I was dealing with fifty zombies, wait, you call them Inferi, at the time. It would have taken me a little longer to dispatch them if they hadn't shown up."

"Fifty?" He asked, in a tone that suggested that I was lying.

"Yes. I am told the Inferi here are quite a bit different from the zombies I'm used to. Ours remember who they were before they died, are quite insane, and much faster than normal people. Still flesh-eaters though."

"Fifty?" Snape repeated.

"That's what I said," I answered and started nibbling on the roll. Good yeasty roll! "Would you slide the roast beef this way when you have a moment?"

The serving platter slid into my field of view, so I stabbed a few slices with my fork. Apparently doing that was incredibly shocking. I tried to concentrate on eating and not the hushed whispers (that I could hear perfectly well) from the student body.

In due time, the dessert course came around and I nearly passed out. The calories at the table probably exceeded five digits. I noticed some shortbread, and asked Snape to pass the plate in my direction.

"How many would you like, Mister Guest?" Snape asked me.

"Three."

I suppose he used a spell, because three cookies levitated from the plate and sailed over to mine. Creepy. Incredibly creepy.

"How do you find our little feast here at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore called out to me.

"Abundant and delicious, Sir," I responded. "My compliments to the chef or chefs."

Dumbledore nodded in a very cheerful way and inquired how I would spend my evening. I responded that I'd probably be doing some quiet contemplation, since my day had turned out quite different from my expectations. He got a chuckle out of that.

"After your meal, please feel free to socialize with either the students or professors as pleases you. I am quite sure that many people have questions for you. I would, however, like the pleasure of your company in the morning. We have much to discuss."

"Thank you, Sir. You are very kind, and your hospitality leaves me quite humble."

Hagrid clapped and said, "Oh, well done tha', man! Well done!"

"Be quiet," Snape hissed.

"I feel as though I must agree with Hagrid, I have seldom had a guest at our table with such kind words!" Dumbledore laughed heartily.

The staff didn't really laugh along. There was a little tension somewhere, but I had no idea where or why. It occurred to me that I was a ping-pong ball being gently swatted back and forth, and the only person who seemed to enjoy it was Dumbledore.

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione stood up as soon as feast was finished and students began leaving the hall. She turned to Ron and Harry and told them that they needed to save Frank from the professors.

"He looks fine, standing up there talking to Burbage," Ron observed. "He'll be just fine."

"No. He knows you three." Neville stood up. "Were it me, in a new place, about to spend my whole night alone, I'd like to chat with familiar people for a while. Don't you think?"

"Exactly! Not only does he hold a wealth of information about amazing things, we've been charged to be hospitable. No decent hospitable person leaves a guest lonely!" Hermione saw the road to victory and promptly cut a path towards it. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and gave the whole thing a moment's thought before he spoke.

"I agree with Neville. Loneliness is a terrible thing. Besides," Harry brightened, "I'd like to hear more about his adventures."

Ron caught on.

"That's right! He's amazin' that way! All blood, guts, heads and what!"

Hermione caught sight of Lavender hiding behind her boyfriend (ick!), and her face had gone quite pale. She kept her giggle at Lav's expense inside. It wasn't easy to do.

"Now that we're agreed, I'll go fetch him!" She spun around in a swoosh of wild hair and shot up the aisle.

** - HPDEB - **

I was talking with Professor Burbage about Muggle cooking when Hermione ran up.

"Professor Burbage, you mean to tell me you've never had barbeque?" I asked, totally surprised. Then again, I take familiar food for granted, and Hogwarts was definitely in the UK.

"No, but I'm terribly curious! Do you think you could help me make it, if you know how?"

With a big smile on my face, I told her I did and mentioned that we might need a type of grill that probably doesn't exist on campus.

"That's not an impediment! If we can find a photograph of it, we can conjure one, or have the elves make one!"

"Well, let's look into it then!" I didn't have to feign excitement.

"Excuse me, Professor, Mr. Stewart." Hermione finally spoke up. "We would like to invite Mister Stewart to our common room for the evening."

"Oh!" Burbage smiled. "Don't let me get in the way. Mister Stewart and I will have plenty of time to explore Muggle cookery later on. Have a lovely evening."

"Thank you, Professor. You too." Burbage wandered away and I was left with Miss Granger.

"Would you like to join us, Sir? There's so much we'd like to know about you and the things you've seen!"

"Sure. Let's go." I couldn't help but grin at her raw enthusiasm.

What surprised me is that she grabbed me and pulled me along. Assault with intent to socialize!

We passed by her peers at a reasonable clip, and she called over to them. "I have him! Let's go!"


	7. Chapter 7

"My lord, Draco has sent me a report. It seems as though there is a Muggle at Hogwarts."

"A Muggle? Lucius, that is preposterous."

"It is here, my lord. The Muggle has been acknowledged as a guest of Dumbledore."

"Of course. That Muggle-loving fool. How dare he sully Hogwarts in such a way?"

"I know not, my lord. Draco says little is known of this Muggle as of yet."

"Tell him I expect regular reports. I am bothered that Severus did not see fit to tell me this news."

** - HPDEB - **

I woke up on Sunday with a conversation hangover. I'd spent less than two hours with the Gryffindor kids the night before, and they wore me the Hell right out. Questions! Questions!

Then again, they weren't the only ones collecting information. I did my share, and the things they told me about their lives were interesting...Their social dynamics and pecking order were fascinating as well.

Harry Potter is the lynchpin of the group, but also isolated. Hermione and Ron are "his people." Ginny and Neville run a close second.

Seamus and Dean were his friends and supporters, just like his other two dorm mates, but less fervent. Intriguing!

Parvati seems pretty loyal, too. Apparently, she's got a twin sister who was sorted into a different house. Ravenclaw?

Lavender bothered me from the start. She's a professional hanger-on, and far less intelligent than the others. What she has, that they don't, is an abundance of cunning. If she could have, she would have been in Harry Potter's bed so fast that the sheets would burn up.

Hermione was interesting, too. Only child. I'd bet money on that. The girls were terrified of her. For sheer brainpower, they ought to be. The boys were wary, too. Somewhere, somehow, she'd brought them all under her thumb.

Go Curly, go!

She's devilishly cute. The boys here haven't developed adult tastes yet, or they'd be following her around with boxes of chocolates. Honestly, I was tempted to...I put that thought away pretty fast.

Morning recollections aside, I needed to get up, clean myself off, recycle my clothes, and see about breakfast. I prayed to seven different deities that these people knew what coffee was.

"Um. Good morning, Pippy!" I called out.

Poof, there he was!

"Pippy wishes Sir a good morning! How can Pippy help Sir?"

"Well, I need a toilet and somewhere to bathe, I'm guessing the bathroom is through there? And a toothbrush, if there is one. And I don't know what to do about my clothes."

"What does Sir need for Sir's clothes? Pippy will fix!"

"Ah, they're just dirty from being worn, and slept in."

"Pippy will wash them! Come, Sir. Pippy will show where Sir can wash!"

I followed the little guy through the door I'd suspected led to a bathroom, and into a brass and copper paradise. There's nothing like an antique toilet, a porcelain bathtub, and towels so thick that they'd choke a moose. It was heaven!

"Oh, Pippy." I sighed. "Oh, Pippy!"

"Sir is upset? Pippy can fix!"

"No, Pippy, I'm happy. I'm very happy. This is a glorious washroom!"

"Pippy is pleased, Sir! Pippy will attend to Sir's clothes."

He vanished.

I got clean.

** - HPDEB - **

Harry, Ron, and Hermione dodged the morning rush by going straight to Frank's room. There was a small scuffle over who got to knock on the door, but it opened before they sorted themselves out.

"Hey," Frank said. "Breakfast?"

"We thought you'd like to come with us, Sir!" Hermione chirped.

"Breakfast is a good thing," said Ron. "C'mon, a rasher and a fried slice is waiting."

Frank walked out into the hallway, dressed the same as the day before, but looking a million times more refreshed. Hermione took his hand and started escorting him down the hall. Harry adjusted his glasses and wondered what he was looking at. Hermione was definitely taking on the role of aggressive tour guide.

"I realize this is Scotland," their guest began, "but I'm hoping there's coffee available. Is there?"

"That's awful stuff!" Ron exclaimed as the walked down the stairs. "Can't see why anyone drinks it."

"There is always coffee, tea and pumpkin juice with breakfast."

"Thank you, Harry. I really can't get through without a stiff cup of coffee." Frank reached over and messed up Harry's messed up hair. The locks were either resistant to brushing, or it was a style choice on the part of the young wizard, Frank wasn't sure.

By the time they reached the great hall most of the students had crammed in already, so making their way to the Gryffindor table was easy. Professor McGonagall stepped in, interrupting their progress.

"Good morning. Will our guest be joining us at the head table this morning?"

"Professor McGonagall! Good morning. I think I've been shanghaied by a trio of young highwaymen. I think things would go poorly for me if I refuse them. Would you tender my regrets to the head table?"

"Only if you refrain from mixing your miscreants that way. To be shanghaied is to be pressed into naval service. Being set upon by highwaymen meant robbery, rape, or murder. Many times, all three."

"I will correct that, Professor. Thank you."

McGonagall huffed, nodded, and strode away.

"Blimey, Frank! That was well done!" Ron declared as he sat down beside his girlfriend.

"Good mornin' Mister Stewart! D'you know the latest football scores?"

"Dean, is it?" The boy nodded. "I haven't kept up on football in a while. When I did, West Ham was my team."

"Oh we'll get along famously then! Come up to the dorm, I've got posters!"

Frank nodded, took a seat between Harry and Hermione, and searched the table for evidence of a container that might be hiding coffee. He whined quietly.

"Sir, just tell your cup what you'd like to drink and it will fill up." Hermione told him, and remembered that she hadn't let go of his hand yet. She let her fingers go limp, and felt strangely sad about it.

"This magic thing...crazy. Hello, cup. Coffee please. Black. As strong as you feel like filling up with. Thank you."

The cup filled up, and Frank took a drink.

"Frank, why are you swooning that way?" Harry asked.

"Oh, son, this is good coffee. I haven't had coffee this good in years." He sighed deeply and took another scalding sip. "If I end up under the table, making happy noises, don't worry."

"You like it that much?" Parvati asked. "Do you eat spicy food as well?"

Frank's eyes focused on the young lady. "Your family is from India originally?"

"Yes! Have you met people from India before?"

He nodded. "Two of my best friends at home, the smartest people I have ever known, are Indian. I believe Bajali's family is from New Delhi. Jayashri's family...I think they were from somewhere near there. I've eaten dinner with them, almost exclusively, for two years. They are both accomplished cooks, among other things."

Parvati smiled and clapped her hands. Having a guest who wasn't utterly ignorant of the wider world was a joy.

Breakfast conversation went much the same way as the chats the night before, until Frank made a very particular request.

"Can you guys tell me about your professors? I'd like to know more about all of them."

** - HPDEB - **

By the time breakfast was over, I had a pretty decent feel for some of the instructors' personalities.

McGonagall: strict as Hell, but evenhanded and fair.

Flitwick: overall a decent guy, used to be a dueling champion when he was younger. From a magical perspective, deadly like James Bond.

Trelawny: utter space cadet, and most likely a complete fraud, although Parvati and Lavender disagree.

Slughorn: plays a very involved game of favorites, likes to be well connected. He could be useful if played properly.

Burbage: sweet, a little obsessive, but decent.

Sprout: solid, dignified, obsessive, always completely fair.

Snape: cruel bastard, favors his own House, routinely doles out psychological, if not physical, abuse. One (small) saving grace, he saved Harry's life back in the day.

I took those thoughts with me as I made my way to Professor Dumbledore's office. It was going to be an epic discussion, of that I was sure.

** - HPDEB - **

"Professor, before we begin, I have a rather pressing need."

Dumbledore looked at me, curiously. "If I can help, Frank, I will."

"As I mentioned yesterday, I have only the clothes on my back and the items in my bag. How can I acquire some new clothes until I manage to get my hands on some money? I'd rather not wear the same things every day."

"Not to worry, Frank. You have a few options open to you. We can investigate the school's 'lost and found', as there are any number of garments from over the years that can be easily modified. I doubt you'd accept a gift of new clothing, but I'd be happy to consider any money necessary to outfit you as a loan. You could also have Pippy transfigure your clothing each morning into something different."

I briefly considered my options. He was right, I didn't particularly care to accept money from him at the moment, loaned or otherwise. I'd also really like to have more than one day's worth of clothes, even if they could be transfigured every morning. That left me one viable option.

"I think the lost and found would be the best choice, but I'm not exactly built like a student."

"Not to worry, my boy. As long as something is roughly your size, Pippy can make it over to fit you perfectly. I'm certain we have a few things left over from seventh years. Pippy will show you the way, and you can explain what you want. He will also show you to the Room of Requirement when you are finished. I will await you there."

I found a couple pairs of pants, a kilt, three shirts, a few mismatched socks, and a few shorts I was told could be changed into underwear. A few minutes discussion with Pippy and I was in possession of underwear, socks, some rather nice wool slacks, a button down shirt, a turtleneck, and the kilt, all adjusted to fit me perfectly.

House elves are amazing.

** - HPDEB - **

When I entered the Room of Requirement, I was more than a little taken aback by how different it looked. Gone were the centuries of junk. Instead I was standing in a fairly decent size room, in the center of which were two comfortable looking armchairs. Dumbledore was in one of them.

"Frank, please have a seat." He waited for me to come closer before continuing. "Immunity to magic; that's rather unprecedented, you know."

I nodded. "I would imagine."

"As I mentioned, I would very much like to test how far your immunity extends. I have theories from our extremely limited knowledge pool, but it would be preferable to test a much larger variety of spells."

"That makes sense to me." I started to sit down.

"Then I suppose we had best begin." Dumbledore waved his wand and my chair was gone.

I paused in mid-squat, before I fell on my ass, and asked him, "You were just being funny then, weren't you?"

"Yes. I wanted to see how fast you are."

** - HPDEB - **

Dumbledore tried spell after spell on me, to little or no effect. He made sure to give me a brief overview of what the spell was supposed to do before casting it at me.

Wingardium Leviosa made me levitate, but not well, or for very long. The bat-bogey hex made me sneeze, but that could have been a coincidence. Calvario didn't see me shed a single hair. A cheering charm didn't even make me grin.

Expelliarmus worked, causing the Man Scythe to pop out of my hand, but I recaptured it before it fell three inches towards the floor.

Levicorpus was interesting. I'm not used to floating around and not being able to do much of anything except be annoyed. That being said, my limbs still worked, and that could be bad for the wizard or witch on the other end of the wand.

"Professor, I'd like to try something."

"Go on, and do let me know if you're uncomfortable, I can bring you down."

"Not just yet." I snapped my right hand out, stretched it to pencil thin, and tapped Dumbledore on the end of his nose. "Twenty-three feet, four inches, and decimals. In any other situation, that could be a kill."

He nodded, and followed my stretchy bit as it transformed into a hand again. "No one would be expecting that. Not at all."

"Okay, I think you can put me down now."

I dropped to the floor a moment later.

"Here's my take on a lot of this spell, charm, hex thing. From what I'm seeing, there's actual aiming going on. It isn't as though you randomly cast a spell and hope. Right?"

"Absolutely. Proper aim, especially with offensive magic, is necessary."

"Then my reaction speed is a very useful defense?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes."

"Do you think we should go down for lunch?" I asked, noticing Dumbledore was casting spells slower than he had in the morning.

"Yes. I find casting so many spells like this to be strangely tiring. It might be best if we adjourn for today. The results of our tests, on the other hand, are very interesting."

"How so?"

"So far, no spell that involves the inside of your body, or how your body functions, works. Spells and charms that involve your environment, or your position within it, do work, if only slightly."

"Is this good or bad?"

"Intriguing, which, for me, is good."

"What do you think, Professor? More tomorrow?" I grinned. Testing was a little tedious, but the information was very good to have. No point in remaining blind to what wizardry is available for an opponent to use.

"If you don't mind. I feel this is very useful for us both, and there are quite a few more things that might be tested."

"Off to lunch?" I bowed to him and waved my hands towards the door.

"Such graciousness could turn a fellow's head, dear boy!"

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione, Harry and Ron saw Frank stroll in with Professor Dumbledore. They were deep in conversation, clearing having a great time with it. The trio felt slightly disappointed when all they got was a "Hello" in passing. Apparently, their friend was going to have a meal at the head table again.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"I dunno, Harry. Quidditch?"

"Ron, don't be an idiot!" Hermione frowned mightily and angrily forked some asparagus onto her plate. "They were discussing magic, obviously. The professor needs to know what else Frank is immune to."

Harry chewed on an apple, trying to puzzle out what might, or might not, work on Frank.

"Did you say he's immune to magic?" Parvati leaned into their conversation. Hermione nearly cursed herself for her stupidity. Now everyone would know.

"Yeah, we think so." Ron mumbled around the roast in his mouth.

"That's amazing! Does he have any other abilities?"

"He saw our wands through our robes, but that's not really magic," Harry answered.

"It's his magic. Do you think?"

"He's not the least bit magical, Parvati." Hermione briefly contemplated what to say. It wasn't really her story to share, but, it was likely to come to light sooner or later. "He's partly machine, a very special kind of machine. Nothing like Moody is."

"Machine? Which bits? His arm, I bet." Neville added his two cents worth.

"And his right eye. He took it out, rolled it off, took a look around, and popped it back in." Ron mimed the action.

"That's awful!" Lavender squeaked. "The poor man! His eye must've been all scummy!"

Ron shrugged. "He didn't seem to care. Maybe the socket cleans it off as well."

Lavender went pale. She didn't finish her sandwich.

** - HPDEB - **

After they all finished lunch, Hermione had a brilliant idea and accosted Frank.

"No one's given you a tour, have they?"

Frank turned to her, noticed how eager her eyes were, and nearly forgot the question.

"No. I didn't think I needed one, so I haven't asked."

"That's not good." Harry shook his head. "It's pretty easy to get lost here, even if you do know where you are. We really should take you around."

"You've not even seen the Quidditch stadium yet!" Ron sounded very, very excited.

"True," Frank agreed. "Anyone want to give me a tour when there's free time?"

Ron, Harry, Hermione, and even Neville, raised their hands.

The Golden Trio were a little surprised that Neville would volunteer. He noticed the change in atmosphere at the table.

"You have to admit, no tour is complete without the greenhouse."

Harry grudgingly agreed. It felt very strange to add someone new to their social circle. He imagined that, for whatever reason, Hermione might feel even more strongly than he did.

Some hours later, they returned to the push and shove outside the Great Hall. It surprised them all, how telling someone "all about" the school could take so much time. Ironically, it was Ron who said it best.

"Blimey! That's a lot done, but barely half!"

"Well," said Frank, "I think my brain is pretty full."

That was his way of avoiding extra honesty: the kids had worn him out. Ron and Hermione could bicker forever, and Neville's adoration of plants made him wilt. He decided to get a little peace by having dinner at the head table.

"I'll see you guys later," he reassured them. "I just want to catch up on the trouble Snape is causing."

"Oh, well, that's sensible."

"Stick it to 'im when you've got the chance."

"Come back as soon as you can!" Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth and wondered what had just possessed her.

"I'm sure I'll see you soon enough, Curly." Frank turned and strolled up to the front of the room, and took his customary seat beside Professor Snape...who was glowing slightly.

"Yeah," thought Frank, "a new data stream is coming on line. Now, tell me why Snape and the blond kid glow with the same colors."

"Hey, Professor Snape. Terrorize any innocent youngsters today?"

"Are you ever anything other than rude, Stewart?"

Frank looked at the tankard by his plate and told it he wanted a dark beer. He turned to Snape and smiled.

"Why, Professor Snape, I've been told that I can be quite disarming."

Severus Snape's face screwed up into a horrible caricature of a smile. "Quite so. By whom?"

"Many lovely women at home." Frank took a large swallow from the beer that appeared in his vessel. "This is very passable beer, you know."

"I do not drink beer." Snape squared his shoulders, and turned his attentions to the night's supper offering.

"Professor Snape," Frank began, "I do have a question for you that's completely unrelated to our witty banter."

Snape turned his head, as though he was expecting to see a pile of squirming maggots instead of a nice leg of lamb.

"Yes?"

"Why are you glowing? Is this some kind of magic you're using at the moment?"

"Glowing, you say? I certainly am not. Have Madam Pomfrey examine your eyes."

Frank pointed at Snape's left forearm. "It's this dark blue haze that starts around your arm, flows upwards, and extends about eight inches above your head."

The two men found themselves in a staring match.

"You are hallucinating. Eat your meal and cease your endless prattle." Shape hissed and turned away, hoping Frank didn't notice how worried he felt.

Unfortunately for Severus Snape, Frank noticed.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I realized today that FanFiction has been removing all of our section breaks. I've gone back put them back in in such a way that they won't be removed. Sorry if this caused anyone any confusion.

* * *

Dumbledore sat in the room of requirement, waiting for Frank to arrive on Monday morning. The children encircled him on his way out of the Great Hall, no doubt because he'd not spent breakfast with them.

Merely missing two meals in their company and they acted as though he'd been away for a fortnight, doing something devilishly interesting. It was quite heartening, how they took to him.

Indeed, Frank had spent another evening socializing with Gryffindor House the night before. Minerva had told him so. It seems as though their guest is quite the raconteur, and favors Harry, Hermione and Ron, above their classmates.

Based on her observations, Harry and Frank seem to get along like a house on fire. This aligned quite well with what he, himself, had noticed. Frank cares for the Golden Trio already, and feels a certain affinity for young Potter...so much better to defend the boy.

Although, it would prove to be a hinderance if Frank's attachment to Harry clouded his judgment in a crisis.

Yet, Dumbledore thought, a person who came from a place where death and final decisions were the order of the day ought to be able to place the greater good ahead of other things.

Frank walked in the door, locked it behind him, and strolled over.

"What's on our agenda for today?"

"That is precisely what I was considering this very moment." Albus sat up, clapped his hands, and tried to appear more positive than his worries left him feeling. "I would like to discuss a shift in our explorations."

"Okay."

"There are offensive spells and so on, as you are aware. I feel as though we should explore those, but I am concerned of actually causing lasting damage."

Frank nodded and put his hands in the front pockets of his pants.

"We really cannot predict what will work, how much it will hurt, or if you would be able to heal the wounds. I will not require you to submit to this experimentation, but I would like you to consider it."

It seemed to him that Frank truly was giving it some consideration. Suddenly, Frank walked to the center of the room and casually held up his right hand.

"How's your aim today, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Superb."

"I can easily grow back a finger, or the whole hand. That doesn't worry me. Pain, well, I'm used to it. Let's give it a try."

"Oh. Well. Thank you." Dumbledore stood up and readied his wand. "Let us try Diffindo. It separates seams, but it can also cut things. I will aim for your index finger. Is that fine with you?"

"Go for it."

"Diffindo!"

Frank's right index finger went flying, and he yelped in pain. "It worked. Goddamn it!"

"There's no blood," Dumbledore remarked. "Why?"

What he saw next left him quite queasy. The finger on the floor inched its way to Frank's foot. When it arrived, it seemed to dissolve into his shoe, a moment later, the finger grew back in its normal place.

"It was a clean cut." Frank flexed his hand. Everything seemed to be working properly. "My right arm seldom bleeds anyway."

Dumbledore shook his head. It was incredibly disturbing, but equally fascinating.

"Professor, my turn to want to test a theory. Do Diffindo again, but at the wrist."

"Whatever for?"

"One thing I've learned is that my body adjusts to certain kinds of damage. For example, I don't really feel gunshots anymore, but I used to. I wonder if the effects of magic can be reduced by exposure."

The professor nodded. It was a very logical theory, given Frank's experiences, but it did feel rather sadistic to subject him to repeated amputations.

"Very well." Frank raised his hand, and Dumbledore whispered, "Diffindo."

This time, Frank's whole hand dropped to the floor, wiggled back, and regrew.

"Again, if you please." Frank requested.

"Diffindo!"

The wrist was cut, but not completely through. A moment later, it healed.

"Amazing." Dumbledore sighed. "Completely astounding."

Frank shook out his shoulders and asked, "What's next?"

Dumbledore found himself lost in thought about the ramifications of Frank adapting to magic. What if his ability extended to the Unforgivables? What could that possibly mean?

Invulnerability.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Oh dear. Terribly sorry, I was lost in thought. Yes. Perhaps we might try transfiguration spells."

"That sounds a little more lighthearted, and probably doesn't make any of my body parts fall off." Frank chuckled to himself. "I'm interested."

"Young man, you're going to wear me to a nub. I've hardly had students as eager to learn as you, much less willing to put themselves in harm's way for that knowledge."

Frank flipped over into a handstand, spun around, and fell to the wooden floor with a horrible slap. Somehow, he rebounded from the impact and came to his feet in an instant. He shook out his shoulders again, and crooked his finger at the headmaster.

"Come on, Professor, you've got one or two more experiments up your sleeve. Turn me into something useful."

Stunned and chuckling happily, he cast a basic spell at his guest. The intent: turn Frank into a teapot. The result: frightful to behold.

Frank's body became a whirling nightmare of black spikes, shot through with red. The young man made a noise that sounded like the ululations of a lost soul, that slowly became something understandable.

"...waaaauuuuuthis sucks! I can't tell you how much!" His body stopped reacting, and he stood in the middle of his shredded clothing.

"Goodness." Dumbledore quickly conjured him new clothes, and looked away.

"That felt uniquely awful, Sir." Frank looked down at his arms and noticed he was dressed differently than before. "Hey, these celestial print robes are pretty stylish!"

"It was the first thing I could think of," Dumbledore whispered. "Ahem. So, that looked somewhat awful."

"I can't say I liked it, but at least we know the spell doesn't seem to work as planned...unless that's what you wanted"

"Oh, no! You were supposed to become a teapot."

"Yeah, that didn't work at all."

Dumbledore smiled at him, weakly, and suggested that his original clothes could be mended. Frank nodded. When the shredded garments were whole, he put them back on. To be considerate of his guest's modesty, the Professor was facing the other way, imagining an exciting game of solitaire.

** - HPDEB - **

"What's your afternoon class, Harry?" I asked.

Lunchtime was just about over, and I felt like I could do more with my day than lounge. The Professor suggested that I experience a little more of student life, and dropping in on classes seemed like a great way to do it. Besides, it never hurts to ask.

"Potions, with Professor Slughorn."

Harry had an eager, and somehow conspiratorial look on his face. I thought that I might want to look into that a little more at some point.

"Do you think he'd mind if I observed class? I'm really curious about how you learn to do all these things."

Harry scratched his thatch of midnight-black hair, and was about to answer me, but Hermione broke into the conversation.

"Really! I don't see why he'd be bothered" Curly chirped. "I'd think it quite an honor to have Hogwarts' most unique guest sit in on his class."

"Hey, I don't want to intrude," I held up my hands, palms out, "besides, I'm a Muggle."

Hermione looked back and forth between Harry and me, made a face, and told Harry to run up to the front table and ask Slughorn directly.

"Alright." Harry got up and strode to the front of the hall.

He came back to us, sat down beside me, and did an excellent Slughorn impression.

"Well, that's quite irregular. I do find that I am excited by the prospect of displaying my star pupil's mastery of potions to the man. Tell him I said that he's very welcome to join us, but not to drink anything without asking first. Don't want him turning into a flaming marshmallow, do we?"

We laughed, and when lunch was over, Harry, Ron and Hermione took me with them.

Class was utterly fascinating, and the room itself was an insane Victorian laboratory full of glassware, bottles, cauldrons, concoctions, decoctions, and a Chinese pharmacy's worth of exotic things in transparent jars. I'm very glad I tagged along.

Even Slughorn seemed to enjoy having me as an observer. I will say one thing though, if he favored Harry more strongly than he already did, I'd be worried that the professor was a closet pedophile.

I left about mid-way through the class, citing an urge for fresh air and took a short walk, letting myself get lost, knowing my tech would help me get back later. The Hogwarts grounds were freezing, but quiet and beautiful.

I decided to join the kids for dinner. There wasn't much space, but I walked up and addressed my favorite witch.

"I don't want to sit on your lap, Curly. Scoot over a little bit."

"I. I. I," she stammered.

I grinned at her and said, "If you get up, I'll let you sit on my lap if there's no room left."

Hermione blushed, and her hair straightened ever so slightly. I filed this away for later analysis. Food was more pressing.

I decided not to go to their common room after dinner again, and instead went straight to my room to relax. Maybe I'd caught Dumbledore's need to think.

My head was surprisingly full. It just didn't want to stay with one topic.

** - HPDEB - **

It's a heart-pounding sort of feeling, Hermione decided.

Everyone was loitering in the common room after curfew, but she sat off to the side by herself. It wasn't utterly without precedent, she'd done it before when she felt like there was a lot to think about. The other students didn't take very much notice, either.

"Maybe...Maybe he's the one." She whispered to herself. "I feel immensely attracted to him, and he's most definitely an adult." She mulled it over a bit more. "I want it to be him. I need to review my research and plan the best way to be irresistible to him. No good if I don't have a backup plan, either. Perhaps I should create a review schedule?"

She did. It included arguments, counter-arguments, subterfuge, physical expressions of desire, and quite a few lines to commit to memory. Nothing better than preparations to make a girl feel in control!

** - HPDEB - **

Another good night's sleep, then a bathtub that gave me a special kind of joy, and fresh clothes, made me feel like I could take on something large and angry. I stood in front of the mirror, and realized that I was sporting the beginnings of a beard.

"Heh. Haven't seen that in a while." I swiped my right hand across my face to tidy my soul patch to match the other stubble.

After that, I tromped down for breakfast. As I walked, I noticed more glowing things than I had before. Snape had been the first, but now I could see that some rocks in the walls had little haloes. Strange, this new awareness of magic!

When I made it down to the Great Hall, the kids were already pushing their way inside, except for this blond boy; the one who glowed like Snape. His housemates created a wedge around him and he walked in the middle, unmolested by everyone.

That's a hoity-toity kid! I knew I needed to keep an eye on him.

** - HPDEB - **

Professor Dumbledore fetched Frank himself.

"Excuse me children," he said to everyone at the Gryffindor table, "Frank and I have a meeting this morning."

"Professor, you're always having meetings with Frank," Ron spoke up. "What're the two of you doing every morning?"

"Unraveling the secrets of the universe, Mr. Weasley!" Dumbledore smiled.

Frank tried not to laugh. Teasing Ron was almost an informal sport.

"That's two points to you, Professor."

Dumbledore swatted Frank's shoulder. "Only two? You, Sir, are a harsh referee!"

"Wait! What're you two keeping points for?" Ron started to turn a little pink, he didn't like being left out.

Hermione caught on and replied before anyone else could. "Word scores. Everytime Professor Dumbledore says 'unraveling,' he gets two points." It wouldn't do to have an angry Ron so early in the day.

"Spot on, Miss Granger! Spot on!" Dumbledore grinned.

"Good show, Curly." Frank smiled and got up from the bench. "I'm sure I'll see you guys later. Be studious and respectful to your elders."

The two older men strolled out of the Great Hall. Snape watched them go, and considered the things that might be happening.

Draco Malfoy started to compose another letter to his father.

** - HPDEB - **

When Dumbledore opened the room of requirement for us, it contained two comfortable armchairs again. He asked me to sit beside him, and gave my knee a grave little pat.

"I would be remiss if I didn't tell you about the Unforgivables. Again, it is up to you to decide if you want to proceed."

"These spells would be the very worst of the worst, I guess."

He nodded. "They are illegal, and represent the darkest of dark magic. The use of one earns the caster a one-way ticket to Azkaban. However, within the wards of Hogwarts, the Ministry cannot detect their use. The monitoring of these charms within Hogwarts is left to the Headmaster."

"What do they do?"

"Cruciatus causes intense, continuous pain. It is torture of the worst kind. The Imperious Curse allows a wizard to control the actions of another. Only those with a strong will and sense of self are capable of resisting any request, order or whim of the offender." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Then there is the Killing Curse. As the name suggests, it kills, instantly. There is no known defense."

"I see. Do you know how the Killing Curse causes death?"

"No. It has been theorized that it kills the soul or destroys the victim's magical core, but those are both incredibly unlikely. Dementors remove a person's soul, but it does not kill them. And Muggles do not have magical cores, but they can still be killed by the killing curse. Ultimately, victims fall to the ground, often looking surprised or terrified."

I imagined it. "A puppet when the strings are cut."

"Very much so."

I stood up, walked to my customary place in the middle of the floor. "Let's try the first two."

Dumbledore stood, and stared at me as if I'd volunteered for a firing squad. "Are you certain?"

"I'm willing, and am considering the third."

"But, it could very well kill you where you stand!" He was incredulous. I would have been if I were him.

"Professor, there have been more occasions than I can count when I should have died and didn't. We've got a fifty-fifty chance, and I feel motivated to live."

"Very well. The first of the two." He stood for a moment, and seemed to center himself. His vitals did funny things.

As he pointed his wand and traced a complex pattern in the air with it, I noticed a look of hatred in his eyes. It took me aback. So much so that I almost missed him shouting, "Crucio!"

I blinked. So did he. His vitals slowly returned to normal, and his eyes lost the slightly crazed look. He looked vaguely ashamed.

"Did you feel anything?"

"No, Professor, not a thing."

"This is unbelievable. May I try the Imperious Curse now?"

"Go on."

A less complicated pattern and a spoken invocation.

I stood there staring at him, wondering why he wasn't blinking. It was a little unnerving.

"What? Come on, Dumbledore! Is something supposed to be happening?"

"By Merlin's robes! Nothing? You did not hear a voice in your head? No feeling of bliss?"

I shook my head. "If this is the worst of the worst, then I'm game to let you try to kill me."

"Do you truly consent to this?"

"Yes."

"In the event this succeeds, do you have any last requests, burial preferences, or anything you would like me to do after you pass?"

He was completely serious. He expected me to die the moment he cast the spell. Wow!

I thought about what I wanted in case it worked.

"Please cremate my remains. Scatter them somewhere nice." I massaged my forehead. "Please feel no guilt if it works. It has been a true pleasure to know you. Tell Harry that he's a noble young man, and I know he will do well in the world. For Hermione, I'd like her to know that I've seldom met such an intelligent, charming and attractive young woman. She will make a formidable witch, a great one. Ron should know I have great faith in him, too, and regret that I won't see the man he'll become."

I chewed on my lower lip. "Let's do this shit!"

Dumbledore took another moment to center himself. That evil look returned to his eyes. With a grand gesture he shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

** - HPDEB - **

Frank froze in place. His eyes followed Dumbledore, but he was silent.

He didn't die. He truly didn't die!

"Frank?" Dumbledore approached him cautiously. "Frank? Are you there?"

A low growl escaped his lips. Words followed.

"Complete autonomic nervous system failure. Refresh in progress. Combat activity suspended."

"What do you mean, Frank?"

Frank's eyes bored holes in Dumbledore, and he felt as though they took him apart in some way. It was a cold analysis at best, and an inhuman survey at worst.

"No threat has been identified. No offensive response necessary. Refresh time estimate: three minutes, forty-two seconds."

"What do you mean by no offensive response?"

"You will not be killed. The probability that an offensive response will result in your death is 100%." Frank's mouth opened and became a smile that struck fear into Dumbledore's heart. "Therefore, this body is held in check."

"W...wonderful. Would you please keep me advised of your progress? I'd like to know when to expect Frank's return."

"Affirmative."

This rough, charming, mad fellow was a walking weapon, a power that magic barely affected. At most he could be delayed by some simple spells; wounded, but able to heal; yet, unkillable by the worst curse there is.

What world would inspire someone to change into such a thing? How terrible was his plight twenty-two years in the future? Dumbledore worried what it could mean for the children, and their children to come.

"Two minutes, sixteen seconds. Partial autonomic function restored. Consciousness reboot commencing. Please wait."

Dumbledore waited, not entirely patiently, and felt quite grateful when Frank's facial expression softened. It was though he was dreaming with his eyes open.

"Autonomic function restored. Reboot. Five. Four. Three. Two…"

"You're alive?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Yes," Frank nodded. "I'm relieved that you're still alive, too!"

"So am I. You certainly didn't die," Dumbledore said, "but your consciousness was completely gone."

Frank told him about being shot in the head, and what happened after, how the machines' prime directive is to keep him alive long enough to heal completely. In order to do that, they throw his civilized behavior out the window. When they're in control, he feels he becomes a monster that does it's best to destroy any threat to his life.

"Professor, in any other case, you would be dead right now. I suppose that all of me understands that you're not a threat, that this was a test."

"I am grateful to be alive, young man. In light of everything we have experienced the past couple of days, I believe it would be beneficial to both of us to get to know each other better."

"That sounds reasonable, Professor."

"However, I would like some time to consider what we have learned here. Shall we meet back here tomorrow morning?"

"That works for me."

** - HPDEB - **

After lunch, I went wandering. As I walked by a classroom door, I heard an obnoxious voice. Snape.

All of a sudden, I felt a urge for mischief.

I opened the door, and walked in. I didn't bother to ask permission. Inside, my heart beat a happy little tattoo.

Professor Snape stared at me. Anyone with less composure would have stood there with a gaping mouth. He stood up straight, and addressed me calmly.

"Is there something we can do for you, Mister Stewart?"

"I'm here to observe, Professor Snape." I indicated the whole class with my hand. "Your students speak very highly of your classes, and I am very interested to see what the fuss is about."

He made a "hmm" noise that sounded more like a low growl. "I hesitate to mention, but you ARE a Muggle, and incapable of magic, so interrupting my...observing my class...is of little value to you."

I walked up to the row of seats nearest me and rested my hand on the back of a student's chair.

"Professor, as sagacious as you are, you know the value of expanding the mind. While I do not spend time in Asia, watashi wa gakkusei no Nihongo desu...I am a student of the Japanese language."

"Indeed. Do you also speak French?"

"Oui. Et vous?"

"Oui. Latin?"

"No, actually." I shook my head.

"Hm. What an uneducated clod you are. Was this excluded from your schooling because you do not have the intellect for it, or are they simply backward in your America?"

"I might make mention of the fact that Latin isn't taught at Hogwarts. Does that mean you feel as though the entire student body is comprised of clods?"

Snape strode towards me, and students moved out of the way.

"Yes. They're all miserable idiots," he snarled at me. "It is a waste of my time, bothering to educate them."

"But, Sirrah!" I fluttered my hand in front of my face and affected an atrocious girly tone of voice. "Why so ever would you pain yourself so greatly?! I am aghast!"

"Get out of my classroom, Muggle." Snape was up in my face, I could smell his breath. Didn't brush after lunch. "You have no business here."

I looked him square in his eyes and replied, "Yes, I do. I need to see how you defend against the bad guys. From what I've been told, there are quite a few of them."

"You understand nothing, and aren't capable of fathoming the requirements of a proper magical defense."

"Magical, no. I'll agree with you there. As for the rest, you're welcome to test me." I smiled. "I'll even limit myself to average human capabilities."

"Liar."

"Test me, Professor." I walked backwards approximately ten feet between us. "Use a nice spell that should make me quiver in my shoes. Diffindo, perhaps?"

"You'd be dead. My skills as an offensive wizard are known all over the world."

"Poor choice of words, baby doll." I kept right on smiling. "Professor Offensive, give me a reason to defend myself."

That did it. Successful goading points to me.

Snape drew on me, and took one step forward. So did I. I watched his mouth start to move, and I took another step and gave him a thumbs up, right under his jaw.

"Gawb!" He gagged on his spell.

I didn't take my finger away, I just put my hips into it and gave the pressure a little more umph.

"Bwawk!"

"Professor, here are three great ways to defend against anything. Don't be there when it happens, proper application of force at close range, and/or let your opponent do all the work. I'm worried that you don't teach these things." I dropped my hand. "Everybody catch the lesson?"

There were mumbles. I'd been hoping for more, but oh well.

Harry looked a little surprised. Ron's eyes were bugging out. Hermione looked confused.

One young man, a blond Slytherin, looked like he wanted to kill me with his bare hands. Adorable.

"Class dismissed!" Snape yelled, and the students bolted.

Seconds later, I was alone with the jackass.

"You rank bastard!" Snape growled at me and said, "Incarcerous! Levicorpus!"

Sure enough, I was swaddled in some hot leather straps and found myself hanging by an ankle in mid air. The levitation part didn't last very long, to Snape's surprise. I just stood there, packaged, as though for a very particular sort of party, and waited.

"I'm going to take you to Dumbledore myself, and have you sent back to wherever you came from. You've humiliated me, and disrespected my authority at every turn. Who do you think you are?"

"Me? I'm Frank Stewart, the man who'll be a pain in your ass for as long as you continue to treat students so poorly. They're quite vocal, you know."

"It is not your place to meddle in our affairs!"

"I see, then the Room of Requirement was wrong in sending Potter to me. Granger was wrong in bringing me back here with them. I see."

"Yes, they should be punished within an inch of their annoying lives for this!" Snape was up in my face again. He seemed to like that, almost as though he thought he could intimidate me.

"No, you misunderstand, Professor. If the Room wanted status quo, Harry was sent to the wrong man. I shake things up. There's something about you that makes me think you're a bad guy, and that makes me want to fuck with you until you make a mistake. When you make that mistake, I'll be there to get you."

"I am not a bad guy, Muggle, and I do not make mistakes. I am better than a common, undisciplined, uneducated, powerless mistake of nature such as yourself."

"Hm. That so?" I cut the bonds and they fell to the floor. "We'll just see about that."

I turned around and left the room with him staring at the straps littering the floor.

Mission accomplished. I wondered if they had a snack bar anywhere on campus, I had a real craving for tea and scones.


	9. Chapter 9

The night before had been filled with more conversation, this time more with Harry than anyone else. He's a good kid, and I really liked talking with him. There was a certain something about the boy that made me feel as though he'd seen a lot in his sixteen years.

Hermione hovered nearby. I've seen UFOs that didn't hover that well!

Ron had spent time NOT necking with Lavender, but it was a near thing.

I turned in after a few hours of chatting, and awoke refreshed in the morning.

Breakfast was uneventful, mostly because I avoided the head table like the plague. No point in tempting Snape again, unless necessary.

I bid the kids farewell, and strode off to meet Dumbledore for our next meeting.

** - HPDEB - **

The chairs appeared again and he proceeded to give me a rundown of his various positions in the wizarding world, a brief overview of his family, including his ill-fated sister, and a very generic-sounding explanation of why Harry was so important.

"I would like to know more about you, Frank. I hope you will forgive me an indelicate question. How is it that your arm is part machine?"

Of course that's his first question.

"Professor, this is not easy to explain. What I told Hermione was the simplest possible description. I knew there was a gap in understanding when Ron didn't know what a gun is."

"Do you think you could tell me more in a way I can grasp?" The old man adjusted his glasses. "I am not unlearned by any means."

"I will need you to accept some very foreign concepts as true if you want me to really get into why I'm me."

He gestured for me to begin.

"You study astronomy and astrology, right?"

"Of course."

I nodded and went on, "There are other worlds orbiting other stars, like Earth does. Some of those worlds have life, as Earth does. They even have people, unlike us, but suited for the world they live on."

"I follow you. Other worlds, peopled by beings unlike us." Dumbledore nodded. I expect he felt more at ease with that part.

"Some of those people are evil, others benign, and quite a few completely indifferent. One species of evil lifeforms decided to colonize my Earth, but needed to wipe us out first. They created Inferi to do it."

"Ah, I see!"

"Another people, single person really, from an entirely different planet, wanted to give us a chance to win our war and survive. That being is so different from you and me that there's no reasonable way to understand him."

"A God, then?"

"Very much like one, but he and his people weren't always that way. In the beginning, two billion years ago, they were just masters of machines."

"Indeed. I am still with you."

"Their machines kept getting smaller. Before long a factory could fit on the head of a pin. A thousand years later, the factory was too small to be seen. After that, those machines seemed to live, they were so complex."

"And that is what they gave to you?"

"Yes. Only this arm and my eye, or so I believed, were more advanced than the machines we made on our own to combat the Inferi. Now I'm not so sure. I am afraid to think about it for too long."

Dumbledore shook his head. I saw immense compassion, and I was glad of it. I'd never had to tell this part of what happened to anyone before.

"Young man, I am amazed by the gift you were given. I am also quite intimidated by what I have seen, and I do not feel that I will ever envy you."

I sighed. "That's because you're a learned man, Professor Dumbledore." I shrunk into the chair I sat in.

Dumbledore shook his head, half in amazement, and half in grave concern. "What you tell me is almost inconceivable. Would that I could be certain you spoke truth. I want to trust you. If the Room of Requirement set in motion the events that brought you here, for the purposes we believe it did, I need to know that Harry's life is in the right hands."

"I can understand your hesitance to trust a stranger. After all, I've only just arrived. If there was a way for you to see into my mind, I'd be willing."

"Why do you not sound surprised, or offended?"

"Professor, I have been accused of being a very cynical person, and not without reason." I gave the old man's arm a friendly pat. "I wouldn't trust an answer to a problem that dropped into my lap unasked."

"Frank, I can understand why I would feel this way at my age, but you are so young. Is the world of the future so poor of hope?"

"Sir, you have no idea. Really."

"Perhaps I could."

I sat up from my slouch. "Please explain."

"There are two possibilities, really. Legilimency would, essentially, allow me to read your mind. I would, of course, stick to surface thoughts, so you would need to think of what you want me to know. Using a Pensieve involves taking a copy of your memory and watching it. I could watch as many memories as you would let me see.

"In a Pensieve, the person viewing the memory is an observer. He cannot interact with any part of the memory, and can only access areas that the person who provided the memory took in. However, considering how resistant you are to magic, so I am uncertain if either method would work on you."

I nodded, pursed my lips, and thought about what I'd heard. From a biological perspective, it seemed rather unlikely. One of the earliest major wounds I'd suffered was a gunshot to the front of my head. The machines replaced what they couldn't rebuild, and improved on the original design. Among the improvements was perfected memory and total recall to the point of reliving any moment in my life in an immersive way...That was before my "overhaul" with alien nanotechnology.

"I would be willing to give it a try, but I don't know if you could understand my memories even if you were able to look at them."

"Are you so unlike us now? Even beyond your physical capabilities?"

I nodded. "Look at it like this. I move faster than normal people. My brain has to react faster, think faster, and process information faster to make that happen. That's just logical."

"Indeed." Dumbledore agreed.

"Then factor in my enhanced senses...I don't even use a ten percent of what I could...all that is wrapped up in my memories of any given event."

"Heavens. I wonder if you could make a simple memory, one from your past, that could be seen."

Light shown through the windows and made bright trapezoids on the ancient wood floor. I focused on those shapes and willed my mind to dumb-down some of what it stored. I have no idea if it worked.

"Let's give it a try. I'll be on my best behavior and try to be as normal as possible."

** - HPDEB - **

"Whether it succeeds or fails, I appreciate your efforts, Frank. I believe it makes the most sense to start with Legilimency. If it does not work, we can progress to securing a memory for my Pensieve." I nodded, only partially understanding him.

Dumbledore retrieved his wand from the pocket inside his robe and leaned forward.

"Legilimency works best with eye contact. I will speak the incantation, and you may or may not feel me as a presence in your mind. I ask that you actively think of the memory you want me to see. Keep in mind I will see surface thoughts, so please try to keep your mind from wandering."

"Got it. Let's give this a try, Professor."

Dumbledore pushed aside his apprehension and met Frank's gaze. "Legilimens."

** - HPDEB - **

 _I was in a bed, I knew it was a hospital bed, though I've never been in one like it. On the edge of the chemicals they pumped through my veins, a horrible pain was waiting. It would come and consume me, the agony of burned nerves, missing flesh, and soul-destroying anguish of failure. Friends dead. The woman I loved, wounded, and me unable to reach her._

 _The alien came to me, the size of Hagrid, white fur, four arms, and utterly alone in the universe. It spoke to my mind, and offered me life. I accepted his gift. It gave me the power to save the world, or to tear victory from the hands of the Progeny-the beings who sought to take over Earth._

 _The many-in-one being vanished._

 _Craving consumed me then, bent me in half with cramping, and I knew I needed to be elsewhere. I rose from the bed, barely able to walk in the first place, my sense of balance destroyed by losing an arm. Sight in only one eye, for the other had been burned._

 _Yet, I walked gray hallways, descended gray stairs, and entered a room of mechanical parts that had no meaning to me...except what my body desired. There was a fragment of shell that came from the objects the Progeny flew about, and it was what I needed._

 _My left hand touched the black material, and it began to flow into me. The missing arm began to grow, bone and flesh replaced by the dark material of the shell. Nerves were reborn, and I collapsed to the gray stone floor. The pain was unbearable until my new arm was complete._

 _She came then, dear Chunhua, my friend who was like me. Her bargain had been made months before my own, but for very different reasons. She held me, grieved with me for my losses, and told me that my face, burned to bones, and my lost eye, could be whole again, too._

 _I followed her instructions, and pain that exceeded the regeneration of my arm exploded in my head. The eye grew, sight returned, but it was utterly unlike how a man sees...New colors, heat, chemical compositions, and the motion of objects too small for normal men to see._

 _How I pounded the floor with my reborn limb! I crushed the concrete to dust, and my new hand changed shapes to match the pain in my soul._

 _A blade formed from my fingers, and slashed through a steel pipe, a physical representation of my flaming desire for revenge and mayhem._

 _I had traded away my humanity for the chance to win a war. I pushed those thoughts as far from me as I could. It was not the time for them, and would turn me from my only goal: revenge._

** - HPDEB - **

Dumbledore heard Frank calling his name from far away, and slowly realized that he was being shaken awake.

"Professor! Professor Dumbledore! Professor!"

Dumbledore rose up from the memory, disoriented, and deeply unsettled by the experience. As uncomfortable as he felt, he knew he had the information he needed.

"Not to worry, my boy. That was not what I was expecting. I will be quite fine. Having seen that, may I tell you a story?"

"Yes, Sir. Please do."

"This is the story of the boy who lived."

** - HPDEB - **

What followed was a litany of painful events Harry had lived through. That he was such a kind, honest, friendly individual was nothing short of a miracle. It spoke volumes to his character, and made me want to help and protect him.

I wanted to string Harry's aunt, uncle and cousin up by their ears. Cruel, vicious people. The boy didn't exactly have an easy time of things at Hogwarts either, based on what Dumbledore told me.

"He's supposed to save the world, this...little boy?" I asked. "This wounded child is your savior?"

"We believe so. He has the potential to be a wizard to rival Merlin. More powerful than I could hope to be." There was a little wistfulness in his voice.

"And who is going to help him do this? Bad guys will be streaming out of the woodwork the moment his nemesis makes his move!"

"All those who love him will stand beside him. Of course, we hope you will decide to as well."

Dumbledore pinned me with his eyes. He'd looked inside my head for more than wanting to know if he could trust me. Damn it.

"You know pain, Frank Stewart. You know loneliness, fear, and being misunderstood. You and Harry share so many feelings, but not life experiences."

"Yes."

"Will you save him more agony? Or will you leave him, another tragic lost hope to add to his memories?"

"Professor Dumbledore, emotional blackmail doesn't become you." I knew I was being led along a path to a single destination, and while I didn't like it, I did understand it.

"Excuse me. I've become quite accustomed to using a hammer when a finger will do." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Will you lend him your strength, and stand beside him in a way that I cannot?"

"Why me?" I asked.

Dumbledore explained his position, and I added my own analysis of the situation. We came to very similar conclusions.

"Will you, and I ask again only for my conscience, help the boy?"

"Yes." I replied, and I meant it. "I will do whatever is within my power to help him. I promise."

"Will you also look after Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley? They are central to his happiness and stability. They are my Golden Trio."

"Yes. He can't function if he's grieving over them."

This time, his smile set fire to his eyes. What a devious bastard!

"Would you be willing to declare your intention to protect Harry before the student body and professors?"

"How dramatic would you like me to be when I help you set the Harry Potter/Golden Trio Protection Plan in motion?"

There's nothing in the world like a devious person laughing when a plan comes together. Dumbledore had a great conspiratorial chuckle.

"Feel free to amuse your inner-thespian."

"Tomorrow morning at breakfast." I smiled. "It will be memorable."

"You are so eager!" Dumbledore laughed heartily. "I appreciate your willingness." He held out his hand and we shook on it, sealing the deal.

The moment he touched me, I knew precisely why he hid his right hand. I looked up at him, and his face fell.

"You know, don't you?" Dumbledore asked me in hushed tones.

"You're dying," I replied. "The sickness is eating you alive."

"Yes, the curse will kill me. Snape has assured me of it, and estimates that I have only months to live. Long enough, I hope, to see Harry Potter fulfill his destiny."

My estimate was more precise. "Six months, eight days, six hours, and twenty-two minutes."

His eyes widened.

"How can you know how long I will live? To the minute?"

I tried to smile, it was a thin one. "I can do much more than make my arm do tricks."

Distress was thickening the air around him, and I wished I hadn't opened my mouth.

"I'm sorry, Sir. My point of view is a little skewed."

"Yes. I imagine a person in your position has to see things differently. No matter, I will do what I can in the time I have."

I knew what I could offer him, and I was scared to suggest it, but I knew I was going to.

"There's no known cure? Nothing?"

"It is incurable, my boy." His voice held infinite sadness.

"Maybe not. Would you like me to try to heal you?"

"What did you say?" The poor man was so stunned that his glasses nearly slid off his nose.

"Most of the time, the machines colonize the body and don't leave," I narrowed my eyes and continued. "On one occasion, they were used to save a critically wounded person. She lived, and the machines were recalled from her body. I believe I can do the same for you."

Dumbledore just stared at me. "I am afraid of your solution. I would rather die as myself than take the chance that I might become—forgive me—as you are."

"It might not work. I've never really tried to heal anything that was caused by magic. Well, other than on myself. On the other hand it is a chance to keep living and doing good. The world needs men like you. Harry still needs you."

"Hope is terrifying," he said. "I believed I'd acclimated myself to the thought of dying. I was wrong."

I think he was about to weep. I knew that if he did, I would.

"Will you try?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes. and pull the machines back whether or not it works. You have my word."

"Will it hurt?"

I shook my head, and amended the negative. "The nerves in your right hand are dead, or will be soon. That's already begun in your forearm. If this works, they will return to normal. That can be uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable" is often the nice word Doctors use instead of telling you the treatment will be agonizing. He didn't need to be more afraid, and I really didn't want him to change his mind. I was pretty fucking sure it would work.

"Frank, I will take you up on your offer. Please, help me if you are able."

I barely had to think before I flooded him with a part of myself. Instantly, I knew the nature of the curse, how it kills. It triggers a biological response—a slow-moving form of gangrene—almost as though the spell spoke directly to his cells and ordered them to die.

Dumbledore collapsed to the floor, grabbing at his right hand. It went on that way for a few minutes, and I hated to see him writhing that way...but his hand was changing from gray to healthy pink.

I pulled the machines out of him, isolated them, and destroyed them. No reason to take chances.

Dumbledore stared at his hand, and then at me when I squatted down in front of him.

"It worked," I said.

"Was that," he wheezed, "your idea of 'uncomfortable'?"

"Yes."

"That is horrible."

I helped him to his feet, right hand to right hand.

"By the way Professor," I said to him, "you might feel surprisingly energetic after this."

"Oh?" He brushed himself off. "How so?"

I shuffled my feet a bit.

"There can be positive side effects to being healed this way. I've seen this in other situations."

He righted his eyeglasses. "Dear. What are they?"

"You've probably been restored to the prime of health for your calendar age, if not better than that. I could have reversed the aging process completely, but we hadn't discussed it."

He looked somewhat taken aback by this new information.

"I certainly know how you could make your riches in the wizarding world, young man!" Dumbledore smiled. "A little extra spring in my step is not at all a bother! And thank you, of course, for not attending to anything other than the curse. Action without consent can put you right into Azkaban."

"Prison, here or elsewhere, is something I'd like to avoid. Can I make another suggestion?"

Dumbledore reached out and caressed my shoulder. Yes, it was an excellent time to tell him.

"By all means, Frank."

"You're going to want to find a lover soon, if you don't have one." I dropped the bomb as gently as I could.

The lovely gentleman blinked and said, "Oh MY!"

I removed myself as quickly as I could.


	10. Chapter 10

It was the middle of the night when Hermione knocked on the door of the room that had been loaned to Frank. He didn't answer it. She wondered if it was absolutely necessary that he be awake, at least at the beginning, for what she'd planned. In the end, she felt as though waking him up wouldn't be too difficult.

She waved her wand, the lock disengaged, and she walked inside. Sure enough, he was curled up on the far side of the bed. It didn't take a lit candle to see that.

Joining him in bed wouldn't be a problem, there was plenty of space. She dropped the robe from her shoulders, and shivered in the cold air. Nudity and November seldom went together well.

Her footsteps made no sound as she crossed the room, silencing charms were marvelous.

She'd cast a silencing charm on his room right before she knocked, as well. After all, if all went according to plan, there was no telling what kind of noises would be made. It wouldn't do for anyone to hear things that might get them in trouble.

Hermione moved the quilt and got into bed beside him.

 _Now, do I wake him straight away, or just enjoy that I'm here in the first place?_ She wondered.

Frank radiated warmth, and she was eager to find out just how hot things might get. Reading everything in sight was a great way to get ideas, but a poor way to test theories.

Boys weren't a good laboratory for such things either. They were dull, often stupid, and wouldn't know romance if it were thrown at them. She wanted a man to learn from, play with, and soothe her curiosity. Truth be told, there was a lot more than curiosity involved.

He'd saved her life. He got to her in a way no one ever had before, and there were feelings attached that she hadn't had the opportunity to dissect.

"What are you doing in my bed Miss Granger?" Frank whispered.

"You weren't asleep?" The fact that he was awake didn't scare her as much as she thought it might. He was a singular man after all.

"I haven't been asleep since you were at the bottom of the staircase. This is another questionable benefit of being me: I know when interesting things are approaching."

"Am I an interesting thing?"

"Oh," he stretched and laughed quietly, "you're an interesting young woman. There's quite a difference, Curly."

"I'm glad of that."

Emboldened, because he hadn't ejected her from the bed straight away, she reached out and touched his left shoulder. As she slid from shoulder to wrist, she felt scars under her fingers. He'd seen so much violence, and it left her wondering if he'd experienced a balance of comfort with it.

-**HPDEB**-

Her hand on my arm wasn't the only thing I noticed.

"You're naked, Hermione."

I looked over my shoulder at her, only her face and halo of curls stuck out from under the quilt.

"What's on your mind? I'd like to know before I ask a young woman to leave my bed."

Her reply was more strident than I imagined it would be. "I'll have you know that I'm an adult and fully licensed to practice magic. And, I'm older than you anyway."

I rolled over and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Older than me? How does that math work?"

"I'm seventeen and it is 1996. You mentioned that you're thirty, and that was 2018. Simple subtraction means that in 1996 you're eight years old."

I shook my head and snickered. "You're not to be denied, are you?"

"Not if I can help it. I'd like to know what being kissed by a man is like. Boys fumble and retreat which frustrates me to no end. I'm curious to know what it is like when...the kisser...is more mature. Will you kiss me?"

Hermione's nudity was a pretty decent clue she wanted… stuff. Sure, kissing was part of it, but, not the end. Unless she's a nudist. That's a possibility I hadn't considered.

I blinked, hard, and started to weigh consequences. Age. Charlotte back home, recently gone mad, and barely speaking to me...Tried to kill me twenty-eight times. General moral issues.

After some very fast mental judo matches inside my head, I decided that a kiss is a kiss and needn't mean more. And perhaps she'd to go back to her room after a kiss. Satisfied curiosity and all. Right?

"Okay."

The moment I said the word, she scooted over, and pressed as much of herself against me as she could. Wisely, I'd leaned in at an angle. My staff of manly joys was out of reach. It seemed as though it ought to be.

-**HPDEB**-

"Please, Sir." She turned her face up toward his and tried to still her heart. He might hear it and change his mind.

Frank leaned forward and met her lips. They were soft, eager, and very mobile. More than a chaste kiss by miles.

When they parted, Hermione gasped, "Oh my goodness. Boys really don't know anything."

-**HPDEB**-

I shook my head, partly to clear it, and agreed. "No, they don't."

Where in the Hell had she learned to kiss like that?

"Could we do it again? I'm incredibly curious!" Her eyes glittered in the low light, but I barely noticed over the static in my head.

I nodded, held her face in my hands, and kissed her. She responded even more fervently than before. It was the kind of kiss that makes time disappear. When her tongue met mine, it sent shivers down my back.

I might go to Hell for it, but I forgot the age difference, and responded to her passion.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione broke the kiss, panting. It was almost too good, and put everything she'd ever read to shame. She caught his eyes, just as surprised as hers, and put her arms around him. She knew she couldn't say that she loved him, but she could honestly admit to liking him very much. And she knew if she had any chance of getting what she wanted, she'd have to ask for it.

He responded to her embrace. She pressed herself against him and stared right into his eyes, and leaned into him. Her lips touched his cheek lightly. So far, her plan was going perfectly!

"I," she stumbled slightly over the word, "want you. I'm tired of boys who don't know anything, and I'm tired of being seen for my brains and nothing more."

Frank swallowed hard, as if things weren't going where he expected.

She whispered her desires in his ear; a sure method of dissolving a man's objections.

"Please, Sir, show me what it's like. Please show me how a man pleases a woman. Bring me to orgasm. Make me...make me cum. Hard. Let me please you. Let me...serve you." Hermione knew now wasn't the time to worry about proper terminology, or embarrassment. This was lust, heat, pure and simple. "I want you inside me so badly. "

She pulled back to see what his reaction looked like. He reached out his right hand and cupped her face.

"Hermione, I'm flattered. You're really beautiful, and I like you...to say nothing of you being courageous, competent, and intelligent."

She heard his sincerity, and was well aware that he was about to show her the door. Disappointment clubbed her heart and closed her throat. She had known this was a possibility, but she'd put herself out there, and she was being shot down.

-**HPDEB**-

 _Fuck! She's going to cry. I'm not good at this! This is bad! Whoop whoop! Pew pew! Alert!_ That's what went through my head the moment her eyes turned away from mine.

Sure enough, I felt the muscles of her face contract...she'd clenched her eyes shut...and my thumb caught the first tear.

-**HPDEB**-

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I wanted to be seductive for you. I planned, researched, and I hoped you'd be interested. There's so much I want to experience with you. Please see me, truly see me for all of who I am."

There was one more thing she'd planned as a last ditch effort before accepting defeat. She got out of the bed and whispered, "Lumos".

She posed in the light, moved this way and that, and then stopped. In the end, she stood demurely with tear tracks on her cheeks, lit by warm yellow light.

Hermione hoped against reason that beauty alone-that she was beautiful enough-would move him. Maybe her tears could reach him, too.

She heard him stifle a gasp, and felt a spark of joy. He'd seen something that affected him strongly: her.

-**HPDEB**-

Dear God, she's gorgeous! How could a robe and a school uniform conceal a figure like hers? Impossible!

I nodded and she came back to bed.

My resistance was about to fall over into messy pieces.

I only had one hand left to play before I caved in. I could tell her the truth. She was blindingly beautiful, and my ability to tell her no was compromised.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione joined Frank in bed, but didn't extinguish the light. He could see in the dark, but her eyes were more limited without charms. She did not burrow under the quilt either, cold wasn't on her mind. It felt good to be seen by him and watch the expressions move across his features.

There were so many expressions to watch, too!

Frank surprised her when he pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. His chest was against hers, and it felt like a comradely hug. Suddenly, she wondered if being invited to bed was just the prelude to failure.

She felt a little angry, and very disappointed.

"Are you hugging me because I'm a child?" Asked Hermione, bitterly.

"No, I'm hugging a friend, a woman, who's crying," he whispered in her ear.

Hearing that made her cry just a bit harder. So close! Such a failure!

"Not because you think I'm beautiful?" She sniffled at him "Or am I not enough to merit more?"

-**HPDEB**-

"Hermione, I'm not good with words. Hurting your feelings is the absolute last thing I want to do."

"Then tell me why you won't...one good reason...see me as a woman who desires you." There was bare steel in her words.

I blew out all the air in my lungs, forcefully enough to ruffle her hair. Honesty was the best policy, and I really wanted her to leave on her own and not order her away.

"I do see you as a woman who desires me. I don't know why you feel that way, but I can accept that you do." I caressed her cheek, and contemplated what I needed to say next.

"Then why?" Hermione began.

"Just a minute, I'm not finished. There's someone I care for at home." I felt her deflate. "She was terribly injured and I wasn't able to protect her when it happened. She lived, but we lost our unborn child, and she went crazy."

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione's hands flew to her face, dislodging his arm. She was mortified at herself, and heartbroken for what had happened to him and the woman he must have loved very much.

She whispered, fresh tears dampened her fingers, "Can she see you through her madness?"

-**HPDEB**-

"Curly, she's tried to kill me a number of times." I stopped to take a breath before saying something I've wanted very much to ignore. "I haven't wrapped my brain around the truth. Charlotte and I didn't survive what happened."

What Hermione did next nearly broke me. I'm good at pushing heartbreak away, until someone kicks my walls over. This little witch was perilously close to doing just that.

-**HPDEB**-

She couldn't help herself, Hermione pulled him close. Comforting him was more important than anything, even her desires.

"I'm sorry Frank. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't. I just hurt." He shrugged. "I have to let go sometime or I'll never heal."

"Let me help." She kissed him on his cheek. "May I please, Sir?"

-**HPDEB**-

I lay there with her arms around my neck. Me… a rogue, a murderer, unsure of my humanity, and felt my throat tighten. She was honest, to her core. She actually cared, and she barely knew me.

I told her the truth, and she was kind to me. That frightened me to death.

I whispered, "I don't want my hurt to spread to you. I don't want this to be a bad decision and backfire."

-**HPDEB**-

She straightened her spine and stared into his eyes.

"Mister Stewart, I know my own mind, and the consequences of my actions." She softened. "Don't throw me out of bed. Please don't."

He didn't, he kissed her again instead. His hands moved against her body, and she wanted to melt.

She was used to having a mind that wouldn't shut up or let ideas go, but his lips on hers dropped her into a place where all she could do was feel and react. The way he touched her breasts, how he knew what he wanted and just did it, made her heart skip beats.

"More! Please!"

-**HPDEB**-

I was stuck between incendiary lust and aesthetic bliss. Hermione's body was the sort of perfect that only young people have, and only then for about fifteen minutes until age catches up. I wanted to consume her. Worse than that, I wanted to keep her. It was exactly what I'd been afraid to feel, and right then I really didn't give a shit.

It was about time I faced the truth. If I ever stood a chance to be happy, I needed to face the things I didn't want to: Charlotte and I are done, and taking responsibility for what happened to her was killing me.

The woman in my arms surged against me and pressed herself as flat to the front of me as she could. Then she writhed. I couldn't help myself, I growled.

As I kissed her she ate at my lips.

-**HPDEB**-

She felt the effect she had on him; he was pressed against her thigh, and she wanted it. Images flashed through her head. Every position she'd ever encountered in a book, gymnastic or not, flooded her imagination, almost as though the images themselves were having a riotous orgy. It was glorious!

Hermione tried to grab his erection, but it was just out of reach. She would have stretched to have it, but Frank put his hand in her hair. When he pulled it, exposing her throat, she made a noise that was between a moan and a cry of joy.

In a flash, she knew something undeniably true. She would do anything he wanted, give him everything, for as long as he wanted her. There was no more bluster in her, not for him.

It was exactly what she wanted, and scared her more than Death Eaters.

Frank's lips on her neck and his hand in her hair filled her with a ferocious joy. She couldn't help but buck her hips against him, and she felt him growl against her throat.

"What have you been been reading Miss Granger?"

"Everything!"

Frank licked her ear, and whispered his next question. "There were things you wanted to know, Curly. How a man pleases a woman, that's one I recall."

-**HPDEB**-

I let go of her hair and she looked at me with spaced-out, glassy eyes, and nodded. It was all I could do not to laugh. She looked like a bobble head, and it made me incredibly happy...more than anything else in recent memory.

"This is one way." I said to her and slipped my hand between her legs.

-**HPDEB**-

She'd never shied away from exploring her own body, and enjoyed it as often as was practical, but his fingers drew screams from her mouth.

Every book about sex she'd ever read tried to describe how intense pleasure can be, and those words didn't do it justice. Nothing had prepared her for how her body responded to his touch.

"Oh no, Hermione, you're not done," Frank purred after her first orgasm peaked and subsided, "there's at least one more."

"No," she gasped, "I can't. There's no way."

He proved it six more times.

"I don't think I can move." Her head lolled towards him. "I'm not sure I'm breathing. I can't be breathing. I've expired from orgasms."

Frank chuckled and assured her that she was completely wrong.

"Hm. It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?" He mumbled.

"I...I might...perhaps," it annoyed her to no end that she was slurring her words, "be offended by...what you said."

"Oh? Would you rather I use my mouth to further your education?"

"God! I really would die!," she protested, and rapidly changed her mind. "Yes, please,Sir!"

A while later, maybe a whole eternity, Hermione was grateful she'd said yes. Very grateful indeed! He barely had his tongue on her before she was begging for more of it, and for everything else she could think of. She thought she'd be embarrassed by all the things she said, but that was something to be dealt with afterward. Other things were more pressing on her mind.

"May I," a sudden attack of shyness burst against her fortifications, "pleasure you? May I? I want to...your...erm...make you. Anything you want from me!"

-**HPDEB**-

I didn't laugh. She'd been very vocal about her desires when I was playing between her legs. Raunchy as hell, in fact. The switch from salacious to nervous was adorable.

"I'd like to be practical for a moment. I don't have condoms here. Do you?" I asked her.

-**HPDEB**-

"Oh!" She felt as though she was on more solid footing, and could address his concern appropriately. "Contraception charms and potions were taught in a magical version of sexual education in first year. I...erm...took the potion before coming here. It works for a month."

"Oh. I see." He nodded, and bent over to kiss her. "In that case, what was it you wanted?"

"I want you inside me. I want to know I pleased you...I want to...God, I want to please you, Sir!"

Frank was stunned by the sheer force of her words. If he'd opened his mouth to speak, he would have babbled like a fool.

"Please." Hermione whispered. "It's what I've wanted. You saved me. Let me serve you, and be with you."

She was spaced-out by a flood of sensations and unfamiliar desires...deep desires. It was so intense she wanted to beg, and cry, and do demeaning things if only he'd take her.

"Ok, Curly."

He fell into her outstretched arms and took what she begged him to. Her joy mesmerized him, her passion defeated his self-control, and the pleasure made him an animal.

After, they rested in one another's arms. She was so tired, but so fulfilled.

"Thank you, Sir. It was more than I ever dreamed." A sudden stab of insecurity came. "Did I...did I...please you? Did you enjoy me?"

"Yes. Dear God, yes. You're amazing, Hermione. Absolutely amazing!"

She was so happy she cried, and laughed, and snuggled into him. Her plan had worked, and she'd pleased him very much. If this was contentment, she wanted more of it, every single day.


	11. Chapter 11

"My lord, Draco has sent me another report." Voldemort waved for him to continue. "It appears that the Muggle is spending an inordinate amount of time with Dumbledore during the day, and is seen almost exclusively in the company of Gryffindors, especially Potter and his blood traitor and mudblood in the morning and evenings."

"Foolish Gryffindors. They're almost as bad as Hufflepuff, perhaps worse."

"There is also apparently a rumor at the school that this Muggle has some immunity to magic."

Voldemort laughed. If he were nearly anyone else, it could be called a belly laugh. However, being the evil creature that it was, it struck fear in Lucius' heart. "My dear Lucius, that is quite an interesting rumor. Students can be so very foolish."

"Quite, my lord."

"Do praise young Draco for is thoroughness, but advise him that most rumors are just that."

"As you wish, my lord."

-**HPDEB**-

At five am, Hermione crept from his room, and fled back to the girl's dormitory. No one, as far as she could tell, was any the wiser when she rested her head on her own pillow. She acted as though she'd slept when everyone woke up.

A quick charm masked the dark circles under her eyes and she ran off to the washroom with her dormmates. Nobody noticed that she laughed a little more readily, or that she spent longer than normal in front of the mirror.

She met Ron and Harry in the common room and, together, they went to breakfast as they did every other day.

-**HPDEB**-

The pushing and rushing outside of the hall were the same as always. Once they plowed through to their table, Neville was already seated, which was surprising.

"How'd you get in before us?" Ron asked.

"I, well, I," Neville stumbled over the words, "met Mr. Stewart on the way. He put his arm around my shoulder and we came here. Everyone gets out of his way. He has that blade with him."

"That's amazing!" Harry crowed. "Did you two talk at all?"

Neville nodded, "He wished me a very good morning, asked me how I slept, and asked after you and Ron. I told him you were still washing up."

"Where is he now?" Hermione asked, carefully controlling her excitement.

"Over there," Neville pointed towards the Slytherin tables. A bit of a crowd had gathered.

"Oh, no," Hermione gasped, "this can't be good."

The four of them rushed across the hall, and pushed people aside so they could see and hear what was happening. They heard Draco complaining about a Muggle invasion and how their ambassador lacked decent fashion sense.

"Malfoy," Hermione barked, "leave Mr. Stewart alone!"

"Shush." Frank turned to her and smiled. "I'm interested to hear what the boy says."

Draco Malfoy turned to his Gryffindor classmate and snarled, "Stay out of this you little Mudblood. This is between men."

Harry and Ron swore, later in the day, that they heard a snap when Frank turned his head from Hermione back to Draco. It was a fact that everyone took one step backward.

-**HPDEB**-

"Men?" I asked. "Draco, is it?"

The small blond boy puffed himself up and said, "Yes. Draco Malfoy, you black-armed Muggle. You'd do well to respect your betters."

"Son," I addressed Draco, "your testicles haven't even dropped yet, and I've had turds that I respect more than you."

-**HPDEB**-

Malfoy's mouth fell open, and titters erupted everywhere. The young man's gaping maw turned into a vicious pout and his brain churned, trying to find something to say, or a proper target.

"Potter, I hold you and your friends in greater contempt for associating with this common garbage." Draco put every ounce of sneer he could muster into it. Surely, he'd regained the upper hand.

-**HPDEB**-

I blinked, caught a glimpse of what Malfoy had on his breakfast plate.

"Squirrel," I whispered. Attention deficit kicked me in the spleen.

"Ooo!" I cooed. "Is that blood pudding, Draco?"

"Um, ah, yes...you savage."

I raised my right hand, pointed at a slice of the sausage, and stretched a finger out like a skewer, slowly. The digit speared the blood pudding like a stygian toothpick and retracted. Then I ate the luxurious little tidbit from the tip of my finger.

"Oh, God, how I've missed good blood pudding!"

-**HPDEB**-

The students who saw what he'd done made terrified noises and pushed back against the crowd as much as they could. Getting away seemed like the best idea they'd ever had.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stifled their laughter, having seen what Frank's arm could do.

Young Malfoy's face turned ghostly white and his bladder quivered with a need to leak. The only response he had was the one he was most famous for.

"Wait until my father hears of this." It came out as a thin whisper.

The man he'd tried to get a rise out of stared down at him and replied, "If Malfoy senior is anything like his son, I'm sure we'll get along famously. Now be good, or I'll give serious consideration to spanking you."

-**HPDEB**-

I knew that the group was parting to admit an adult who was pointing a wand at me. I didn't turn around, because the adult in question wasn't much of a threat.

" _What_ are you doing to my students Mister Stewart?" Professor Snape asked, emphasising the "What."

I answered the question without turning around…no point in showing unnecessary respect. "Dealing with a discipline problem, _Professor_ Snape."

"He is my charge, not yours. Discipline is mine to issue."

"Then do so. I gladly cede that responsibility to you, and trust you to execute your duty in that regard."

-**HPDEB**-

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shivered, as did every Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They'd just heard something beyond their imaginations. Someone had just called Professor Snape on his lenience towards Slytherin.

Things could get ugly.

"Do you presume to judge me Mr. Stewart?" They heard Snape say.

-**HPDEB**-

"Why yes Professor, I do." I turned and noted the fear on the student's faces. This man truly was a terror for them. I prayed he'd get in my way over some small thing.

Snape sneered.

"And why do you feel it is necessary to carry a weapon to breakfast? Are you worried that the toast will rise against you?"

Oh, he was digging for it. Sneaky little bastard!

"You," I sneered in return, "carry a wand. A more devastating weapon by far. Oh, and you're pointing it at me. Worried that I'll rise up against you?"

"I am prepared to defend my students at all costs, from any threat...including you."

I had a thought. It took me a few seconds to unstrap the Man Scythe and scabbard. The entire hall went dead quiet, and Snape's eyes narrowed to slits. His mouth twitched.

Once I freed my weapon, I turned and addressed Hermione.

"Would you be a dear and hold my baby for me?"

Numbly, she took the Man Scythe from me, and stepped back. My brain tossed images at me, all revolving around how a lady holds a warrior's weapon. A bad time for it.

"And now I'm unarmed. Hardly a threat, am I?" I stared right into his beady eyes. "Or do you always keep guests at wand-point?"

"You are an unknown. Who is to say what depths you will descend to."

"Well, I have to say, your way of going about this is less than friendly."

"You," Snape shied away from the pejorative, "are not a wizard. Our methods and logic are above your Muggle ways."

-**HPDEB**-

At the high table, Professors McGonagall, Burbage, Trelawny and Flitwick were sitting open-mouthed. Hagrid was absentmindedly picking at his toast, as if enjoying the most dramatic movie ever filmed. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was debating when it would be appropriate to end the conflict.

"Maybe in a moment or two more," Dumbledore thought.

-**HPDEB**-

"I can't possibly agree. If anything, having lived without magic and having to figure out how to do things without it means my logic and methods are above yours. However, ignoring superiority in the face of politeness, I can quite easily see that how you treat some of your students is hardly even-handed professional behavior. I know preferential treatment and snobbery when I see them."

Snape's famous pallor succumbed to a furious red flush, and his thoughts turned towards silencing the pretentious upstart...even to the extent of using an Unforgivable.

Frank approached him, sidestepped the outstretched wand, and leaned in so that only Snape could hear him whisper.

"Don't even think about attacking me, you won't win."

Snape gritted his teeth and whispered, "I doubt that, ruffian."

"Be my guest, you pretentious motherfucker. Be my guest." Frank hissed and stepped back, smiling.

-**HPDEB**-

The majority of the crowd, but not the Slytherin students, saw Frank smile. Breakfast didn't seem appetizing after that.

Frank turned away, took his weapon out of Hermione's unresisting hands, and suggested that eggs and bacon were a fine idea. He walked away, and sat down with them in the Gryffindor section.

-**HPDEB**-

Snape turned away slowly and marched back to the front of the Great Hall. His mind was filled with violent thoughts. There had to be a way to break that insufferable Muggle, and he planned to find it.

First, he would wring Dumbledore's ears off with complaints.

-**HPDEB**-

Hagrid looked across the table, and caught Dumbledore's attention and said, "Lad has opinions, don' he?"

"Yes, Hagrid. I would say so."

"Flair for the dramatic as well."

"Rather." Dumbledore lifted his teacup, and hoped Hagrid would get the hint. Besides, more was likely to happen in the near future. Perhaps only minutes from that very moment.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione sat beside her...lover...he might be...indeed...the thought, even in the face of what he'd done with Snape, made her feel lightheaded. More than that, she felt quite aroused by having him beside her.

A little voice inside asked her if she'd bitten off more than she'd planned on.

-**HPDEB**-

Harry sat opposite them and wondered what he'd seen minutes before. It also occurred to him that his old friend Hermione was acting strange. She was sitting as close to Frank as she could without being in his lap.

-**HPDEB**-

"Frank," Ron said, "that was brilliant! I've never, ever...I...no one has ever..." He fumbled into silence.

"Why, Frank?" Hermione asked. "Why did you do that?"

Frank reached out, seeming to ignore the question, and picked up a cup from the table. He sipped from it and smiled. It was a genuine smile.

"Curly, sometimes it is necessary to turn the tables on the status quo. Sometimes you have to do it twice." He sipped from the cup again. "This is good coffee!"

"Mister Stewart?"

Everyone but Frank turned. Luna was standing to his left, looking fey and serious.

"Hello Miss." Frank turned to her and smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Luna. Professor Snape won't look kindly on you for that." Luna nodded to emphasize her words. "I wonder what you're planning."

"Nothing, Luna. Nothing at all."

They noticed how he whispered it, and that a heaviness hung in the air afterward.

Luna nodded, and said, "Do you know? The toast is very good with marmalade."

-**HPDEB**-

"Thank you, Luna. I'll be sure to try it." I grinned at her because I knew she saw right through me. I liked her instantly.

Before Luna walked away, she looked around me and smiled at Hermione.

"Hermione, you look much more relaxed, having lost your virginity."

The little spacey girl turned on her heel and quietly pranced away.

Thankfully, Luna hadn't labeled me as the thief of virtue. I couldn't imagine the mess that would have spread out from there. Still, I made a note for the sake of practicality, to prepare for the revelation.

One thing was instantly apparent, I needed to keep my mouth firmly shut on that topic, especially in public.

-**HPDEB**-

"What?" Harry asked.

"Whub?" Ron asked, wiping the snot and eggs from his face. He'd heard Luna and immediately shot a mouthful of food from his nose.

Lavender scooted away from him. "Ew! Won-won, that's disgusting!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. While she wasn't as adverse to Lavender sitting with them as she had been just yesterday (she really must remember to analyze this change in sentiment later), she didn't care to hear ridiculous endearments.

Once Ron had cleaned himself up, he turned to his girlfriend, his ears and face bright red.

"Sorry, Lav, but you heard–"

"Silencio! Muffliato!" Hermione recognized the signs of a Ronald Weasley tantrum, and this one looked like it could reach epic proportions. "Ronald Bilius Weasley!" He flinched. "You listen to me, and you listen well. What I do, or don't do, in my spare time, as part of my _personal_ life, is _none_ of your concern. Do I make myself clear?"

Facing down an obviously angry Hermione, Ron did the only thing he could: gulp and nod.

Her hard gaze now trained on Harry. "Do _you_ have any interest in what I do with my personal life?"

Harry wisely shook his head. "As long as you're safe and happy."

This was clearly the right thing to say. Hermione grinned. "Thank you, Harry." Her fiercest look was saved for Lavender, and included Parvati who was sitting right next to her.

"And I better not hear one peep of this bandied about the school. My personal life is my own. Remember, we share a dorm, and you both know how many hexes and curses I know. If _ANYONE_ hears anything, I'll know who to look for."

The steely glint in Hermione's eyes put the fear of Merlin in both girls. "W...we won't say a...anything, Hermione. W...witch's honor!"

In a flash, Hermione had removed her spells, except for the silencing spell on Ron, as he was still rather red, put away her wand, and was back to her normal cheerful self.

-**HPDEB**-

Well, that was certainly unexpected. Hermione's damage control was, too. Good Lord, but Ginger Ron was angry. From the look of things, regardless of the nubile gal who'd been nuzzling against him not long ago, he carries a torch for Hermione. How did his sweetheart miss that? Maybe Hermione was just that much of a force to be reckoned with. Probably. She'd dropped the hammer on Ron almost instantly.

It was obvious that the two female classmates, including Ron's honey, were the gossip patrol, yet Hermione dominated them like a champ. I was moved. I was also turned on big time. For a moment, I wondered if Curly would end up in my bed again, or if the social pressure would keep her away. Then I slapped my brain around for thinking those lustfully inappropriate thoughts, other stuff needed to happen. 

I had to interrupt my new friends because I needed a favor.

"I'm sorry to butt in like this, but I need your help. Ron, Harry, Hermione, gang, can I count on you?"

"Ah, sure." Harry answered.

Ron replied with a nod, he still couldn't be heard

Hermione, blushing furiously whispered, "Yes, Sir."

"Grand." Frank said. "Don't do anything at all for the next few minutes. I'm about to shake shit up again. It'll be a bit bigger."

He stood up, picked up the Man Scythe from the table, unsheathed it and set the case he walked straight up the main aisle of the Great Hall.

-**HPDEB**-

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes Mr. Stewart?" It was about to happen, and even at one hundred and fifty years old, Dumbledore couldn't help but feel a little excited. New things were so rare!

"I've a little something I'd like to say to everyone. Do you mind?"

"Be my guest."

Snape rose up and was about to object, but Dumbledore held up his hand. Snape took his seat.

Frank nodded and turned to face the student body. He began quietly.

"Good morning."

There were mumbled replies from the kids.

The weapon in his hand was gleaming in the morning light.

He raised his voice so he could be heard throughout the hall. "You have wondered why I'm here, I'm sure. I believe it is time to address the question. Very simply, I was brought here through very unusual means for a single purpose."

Children began whispering to one another, and Harry felt a chill run down his back.

The Man Scythe twirled in Frank's right hand for a moment, and suddenly stopped. The blade sprang out into the locked position with an echoing snap. Frank flicked it into the air and caught it by the spine of the blade, right over the point where the blade swings out.

When Frank slammed the handle to the stone floor, it seemed to shake the walls. Dumbledore could feel it in his bones, and he knew every student in the hall felt it as well. A proclamation was being made, and Hogwarts herself was validating it with her magic.

"Hear me!" Frank's voice rattled the chandeliers. "I, Francis Stewart, declare my purpose to each and every one of you: I am the protector of Harry James Potter. His life is as my own, and I will accept no threat to him. Slights to him are slights to me."

"Here it comes," Dumbledore whispered. "Here it comes."

"Harm to him is harm to me. Know this as well: I am no mere Muggle. I am the warrior whom magic cannot kill, no hex hinder, and no curse impede. The weapons and magic you have at your disposal are an annoyance, nothing more."

"Good, lad! Good!" Dumbledore nearly applauded. "Well done, my boy."

"In defense of my charge, I will meet injustice with justice, violence with violence, and surrender with mercy. Test me at your peril, for my aim is sure, and my judgment swift. This is my vow to Harry James Potter, and to whomever I grant my protection. Witness my promise. Remember it. Let it be known at Hogwarts and beyond."

-**HPDEB**-

Harry wanted to protest, but he was frozen to the bench, shaking. It was a too much to process. Soon, very soon, he would be furious.

"Hear me one last time," Frank called out over the nearly audible quivering of Hogwarts' students. His voice changed. He sounded quite happy. "Have a lovely breakfast. I have it on good authority that the marmalade is smashing."

Every eye watched him as he folded the blade of the Man Scythe into the handle, and strode back to the Gryffindor table, weapon over his shoulder. Not a single student or professor spoke or moved for several seconds.

Ron mouthed something before looking pleadingly at Hermione. She took pity on him and flicked her wand. "Blimey, that was impressive, Frank."

"Thank you, Ginger Ron. Hermione, would you scoot over?"

-**HPDEB**-

As Frank was making his proclamation, Hermione turned to Harry, her eyes flashing. That he would keep something like this from her!

But she saw she wasn't the only one upset. One look told her all she needed to know. Harry hadn't had any idea Frank was going to do this, and he wasn't happy about it at all.

Harry's magic was building, flaring out, as it always did when he was upset. The air was crackling with it, and she realized people were edging out of the way.

How could Frank possibly not notice it as he sat down? He was only inches away from Harry.

-**HPDEB**-

Harry was furious, there was a sparking magic whirlwind forming around him even as I sat down. I wouldn't have noticed without testing and experimenting with their headmaster. I'd learned a lot, to say the very least, and I'd begun to see and feel magic around me.

I started before Harry could. "I can't tell you not to feel blindsided and angry, Harry. All I can say is this comes down from Dumbledore himself. He requested, and I agreed. There are valid reasons, backed up by the Room of Requirement dropping you into my lap."

"Why didn't you tell me?" His question came out as a snarl.

"You might have said something, even in passing, and it would have made it around the school before we were ready–before we could control who heard it and how. There are eyes and ears everywhere, you know that. We wanted to have them in the same place, at the same time.

Harry locked eyes with me, and I saw a flash of panic. His anger started to die down.

Hermione was less than pleased, too. I hoped I'd have an opportunity to talk with her later and fill her in more. Then again, spending time with her would probably start the rumor mill grinding. Someone would put two and two together pretty quickly. I had a feeling it would be Ron or his girlfriend.

"Is what you said true," Curly asked me, "magic can't kill you?"

"Yes, it's true. Dumbledore and I have been testing this almost since you brought me here. The results have been interesting, but not fatal. That's a discussion for another time though."

Ron piped up. "You're saying he tried the...the (gulp) Unforgivables?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"What about transfiguration?" Curly asked, anger gone, replaced by wide-eyed intellectual hunger.

I sighed and answered her. "It isn't pretty to look at, but ultimately, it doesn't work. My body fights it off."

Ron's girlfriend Lavender squealed. "You're terrifying! Let's go Won-Won!"

"Ah, don't worry, Lav I'm pretty sure he's my friend. Aren't you Frank?

I gave him a friendly smile. "Yes. Absolutely. You're all my friends, and I'll look out for you, too...just not quite so formally."

I laughed. "Hell, I'll keep an eye on all of Gryffindor if I have time!"

Hermione asked another pointed question. "What's the point of guarding Harry anyway?"

"No one is better qualified than me...or quite as disturbing to wizards for that matter. Then there's the Room of Requirement, it gives you what you need. Besides, remember who touched me and brought me to Hogwarts."

"How will you know if I'm in trouble?" Harry wondered.

"We're going to talk about that with Dumbledore after your classes."

"You can't be everywhere?" Hermione asked. "Can you?"

"No, but I am very, very fast. You already know that, and my senses are set for long range when it comes to you guys."

"How far away can you hear?" Ron asked.

"Do you really want to know? Really?"

"Yeh!" Ron sat up straighter, eager as anything.

I imitated Ron's accent. "Blimey! What did they put in that puddin' last night? My whole arse..."

Ron interrupted me, "Right! That's enough! I believe you!"

-**HPDEB**-

Harry was quiet for the rest of breakfast, running Frank's scene back and forth through his head. He began to wonder if Professor Dumbledore felt that he couldn't take care of himself in battle. That thought settled in his head, and started to make him angry.

If he'd not had studying and classes, there might have been time for him to build up a serious head of steam over the whole thing. Instead, his upset settled in like a dull ache, the kind that can last for weeks.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione, like everyone else at the table, ended her meal in silence. She wanted to kill Frank for surprising Harry that way, but more than that, she wanted to get to the bottom of all of the vow business. What could make Frank make a promise like that when he doesn't even really know Harry? Even if Dumbledore asked him to, it made precious little sense to her.

Who was this man she'd slept with anyway?

She shuddered to think, even for a moment, that she might have made a poor choice.


	12. Chapter 12

As the students began to make their way to their classes, Hermione speared Frank with a look that, quite clearly said, "Stay here."

"Harry," she said, turning to her friend. "You have a free period now as well, correct?"

"Yeah, why?" He was still quite upset. She hoped that a free period would help him calm down.

"I need to speak with Mr. Stewart. I'm certain you'll be safe making your way back to the common room."

The Harry and the boys nodded, and threw Frank commiserating glances. Harry and Ron had been on the receiving end of one of Hermione's interrogations. They'd hardly wish that on Malfoy.

"Mr. Stewart, if you'd follow me." She rose, without bothering to check if he was following her, and led him out of the Great Hall.

-**HPDEB**-

I am about to get my ass handed to me on a plate. That's what I thought the moment she addressed me by my last name. I followed her and kept my mouth firmly shut.

-**HPDEB**-

After a brief walk, they reached an unused classroom that she knew from her Prefect rounds was fairly undisturbed.

"In here." She let Frank in first, then closed the door and cast some privacy charms. It wouldn't do to have anyone hear their conversation.

"Now, would you be so kind as to tell me just _what_ that was at breakfast? First you take on Snape, and I can assure you that the third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs will be cursing your name, then you announce that you are Harry's bodyguard and vow to defend him from all, without even _consulting_ him first! I know it takes some time for blood flow to return to all the right places, but I can't imagine you are still affected in such a way by our activities last night!"

-**HPDEB**-

 _Dear Frank, do not be alarmed by Hermione's upset. You turned her world upside down this morning...probably quite a few worlds. Be measured. Please. Thank you, Your Better Sense._

"Snape needs to know that I'm not to be trifled with in any way." I told her while I found a desk to lean against. "Of all your professors, he's the biggest threat to Harry's safety, as well as to you and Ron."

I allowed myself a few cleansing breaths.

"To address your second question. Dumbledore. He told me the story of the Boy Who Lived. I know who Harry is, and who his enemy is."

She absorbed the information without moving a hair. Truly, a terrifying person to anger. I continued.

"I learned a lesson long ago: the target should never be as interesting as the people around him. Right now, and for a little while to come, I am a larger target than he is. Your Death Eaters are not a match for me, and quite a few of them will be dead because they want to test out my promises."

She didn't look entirely convinced.

"I am able to protect him while he does things that could endanger his future, destiny, whatever you want to call it. That's what Dumbledore ASKED me to do."

I let it lay right there.

"So Dumbledore told you... _everything_? You know what Harry has to do?"

"Kill your world's version of Darth Vader. Yes. He Who Shall Not Be Named."

"And you're _truly_ immune to the Unforgivables? All three?"

"Cruciatus. Imperius. Avada Kedavra. All three." She didn't need to know what the killing curse did to me.

"Do you even sense them? A feeling of bliss with the Imperius? Or some kind of physical sensation with the Cruciatus?"

"No. Not a thing. Try me."

"I can't..."

"Then you have to trust me. I'm not going to lie about these things when I've just set myself up as a target for them."

"Why are you doing this? Just out of the goodness of your heart?"

"I see how adrift and afraid he is. Do you?" I had a lot I could say, but the words weren't lining up.

"Of course I do. I'm not blind. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was told his destiny at 15 after watching his godfather get killed in front of him. He's powerful, more powerful than he'll give himself credit for, but we're all still teenagers, Frank. And we have to fight a war.

"If anyone has a right to be adrift and afraid, it's Harry, but he doesn't show it. He'll lead everyone, he'll save everyone, because he has to, because it's who he is. And you, if you say you're going to protect him, to see him through this, you damn well better do your best at it. Don't you dare hurt him, Frank Stewart!"

My frustration got the better of me, and I ended up saying things I'd never planned on.

"I've been fighting a war for almost four years. I know what it has done to me and the people I care for. I know what Harry stands to lose, and I don't want him to…Fine. Here you go. My father was my world's Voldemort. My brother was his second in command. I had to kill them both. My sister was murdered by the man who nearly killed Charlotte...I've lost a lot of people, and I couldn't..."

I got up and paced. It isn't a story I like telling, much less remembering.

I walked up to her and put my hands on her shoulders. "Goddamn it, I want to help him live long enough to save the people he loves...I couldn't, but he still has a chance. He needs me, and I'm going to stay here to make sure the 'Boy Who Lived' keeps living. "

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione stared up into his eyes. She didn't think it would do any good to apologize. She couldn't have possibly known what he'd faced. There was also no point in making him swear to do right by Harry. She knew he would. It was in every line of his face.

Instead, she offered the only measure of comfort she could think of. Her hand reached up, almost on its own and cupped his face.

"I'm sorry you had to face all of that. That you are still alive, and still trying to help people speaks volumes to your character. You're an outstanding man, Frank Stewart. I understand why Professor Dumbledore entrusted Harry's life to you. I trust you with his life as well."

She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him close for a hug, hoping he was more familiar with them than Harry had been the first time she hugged him.

-**HPDEB**-

I didn't LIE, precisely. I omitted information. Dumbledore asked me to protect his "Golden Trio," Harry, Ron and Hermione, as well.

Losing Ron, or losing Hermione, would cripple Harry. I couldn't allow that to happen, besides I felt very strongly about protecting Hermione, in particular.

I could stay long enough to see it through. What's the worst that can happen? I spend twenty years in the UK and sneak back into the USA as if I'd never left. Annoying, but doable. And that's assuming this is even the same universe.

With her arms around me, and my regard in her eyes secure, I could strangle Voldemort myself. I don't know why I felt that way, but I did.

Hearing that she thought well of me was enough to make my chest stop clenching.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione felt a happy little glow being pressed up against him, and figured she'd better discuss the other issue between them.

Stepping back from him, she fixed him with a serious look. "Enough morose discussion, I'd like to discuss last night...and this morning...with you, if you are amenable?"

He looked a little shaken, but his voice was steady. "If you'd like. Just give me a moment to shake off that ninety-degree turn. Quite a change of topics, Miss Granger."

"And here I thought you'd be quick enough to keep up with me, Mr. Stewart," she teased with a playful grin.

"Sigh. The smart ones." He messed up her hair. "I can exhaust you girl. That's more than keeping up."

"Point to you, Mr. Stewart. I will happily admit that last night was everything I could have hoped for and more. However, I do not wish you to feel yourself coerced, nor do I wish you to think I may have felt pressured, or, in any way regret my decisions. I am quite pleased with my choices."

"Thank you for saying so. I know those are questions I would have asked if this morning had been less eventful. I'm pleased with my choices, too."

"Well, then. If you will indulge me a moment of pure logic...As two consenting adults, and having both enjoyed our activities last night, would you be interested in further exploration? I will admit to having read much, and having many theoretical interests I would like to experiment with in a practical way. Bluntly stated, I trust you, Sir, and I would very much like to experiment more, if you are willing."

-**HPDEB**-

Pure logic? My pink butthole!

She made me feel something I'd never explored before. I wanted to bring her to heel. More than that, I wanted to strip her intellectual bullshit and make her FEEL.

I closed the distance between us and put my hand on the back of her neck, under all that gorgeous hair. I didn't even apply pressure.

"I remember last night, Hermione, vividly. I can still hear the things you begged for. There were some statements that you made consistently. Do you remember them?"

-**HPDEB**-

This was not going _at all_ as she had expected. Her plan involved him turning her down, and her trying a couple of things to convince him, depending on the reason for his rejection. Above all, it involved her retaining her calm, logical grasp on the subject. She couldn't lose it now.

"I believe there quite a few statements we both repeated last night. You'll have to be more specific if you desire my remembrance of one in particular."

-**HPDEB**-

I reminded her of five or six things she'd said in moments of...excitement.

"You've made your point! What do you want, Mr. Stewart?"

I could see the whites of her eyes. This isn't at all what she expected, and she was scared. Well, it wasn't what I'd expected either.

"I want," deep breath, "to know what this is between us. I want to make you feel...without hiding it in experimentation and logic. I want more of you."

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione's brain was mush. Her logic had no answer. She wasn't even sure she was capable of speech at the moment. Even if she was, what do you say to such a statement?

She looked up into his eyes. He was offering her what she'd often dreamed of. A chance to feel without analyzation. A chance to exist in sensation. A dream come true in some ways. A nightmare in others.

Utter bliss wrapped up in a cocoon of chaos. But it was something she was fairly sure she wanted, possibly even needed.

-**HPDEB**-

"You can answer me. Do you want this? Would you like it to continue?

"Yes," she said. "Yes, please. If it pleases you."

"I'll keep you safe. Every single bit of you."

I knew I meant it, but it was more than safety from physical harm. I meant to hold her heart and mind away from danger. This had never happened before—none of these feelings—ever!

Hermione seemed to be in the same position. Her facial expressions cycled through joy, dismay, and curiosity in succession. From her vital signs, I knew her body was on board, but her brain was in turmoil.

Can't say I've never been there. What day is it?

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione processed his words. He said he'd keep her safe. She wanted to analyze it, pick it apart, and find a reason he couldn't mean that. But with him holding her, she couldn't think. She loved it and quaked in fear for loving it.

She didn't know who she was anymore. The only thing that made sense was being with him and indulging the lust they shared.

Her clothes were in the way. She wanted them gone. A twist of her wand, and a thought, and they vanished.

-**HPDEB**-

Not long after her clothes disappeared, I bent her over a desk. She encouraged me with little wiggles and whimpers, and I gave us what we both wanted.

I was beginning to see the good in privacy spells. The way she pounded her fists on the desk—to say nothing of (ahem) her exhortations to bigger and better things—the local police would have come running.

At the end, she wasn't the only one who was outspoken. Ahem.

There's really nothing in the world better than a super-smart woman who has a secretly high libido and a potty-mouth.

Later...

"We should," she said as her clothes rematerialized, "leave separately. Agreed?"

"Probably. This is going to become common knowledge soon, but it doesn't need to be today."

I saw that the big windows in the room could be opened, so I went over to have a look. Castle walls were nice and rugged, so I could climb down to somewhere...It looked like a courtyard some feet below...Not a bad place to land.

Before I opened the window, I crossed the room to where Hermione was gently swaying.

-**HPDEB**-

She could barely keep her footing after he took her that way. It had been much more intense than their lovemaking the night before, and she had responded...intensely...to it. She wondered, vaguely, if she would be sore later on. Nothing a quick numbing charm couldn't cure, she supposed.

He approached from the other side of the classroom, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her thoroughly.

"Be safe. I'll see you at lunch." He kissed her again. "I like you."

She swooned a little.

Frank walked away, opened a window, and left the room. Presumably he climbed down, but he wasn't on the wall when she closed the window.

She took a moment to adjust her appearance, conjuring a mirror to do so, then took down the privacy spells and quietly left the room. The hall was blessedly empty, and she took a little time to herself in an alcove before going to her next class.

So much to think about!

-**HPDEB**-

Severus Snape stood dead center in Dumbledore's office. He was disheveled, beside himself, and immensely angry.

"What is the meaning of this man promising protection to Potter? Why challenge my authority? For that matter why is he still here?"

Albus looked over the rim of his glasses at his old friend, shook his hands free of his robes, and breathed evenly for just a moment.

"Severus, do you see my right hand?"

The irate professor looked down and his heart almost exploded in his chest.

"The curse is gone?" Snape said, with an intense effort to keep a hundred emotions at bay.

Dumbledore held up his hand and waggled his fingers. He smiled. Young Mister Stewart knew how to throw a stone into a pond, sure of the largest ripples.

"Stewart healed me. That is the condensed version, to be sure."

Snape planted his hands on the desk, leaned forward, and protested, "He's a Muggle! He can't do something that is beyond the wisest of us!"

"Old friend, his description of himself in the Great Hall is nothing but a fact. He is not a Muggle as we understand it. If anything, he is as beyond them as we are. Indeed, in some ways he is beyond us."

The headmaster shook his head and wished he could make things easier for Snape to grasp.

"Young Miss Granger understands Stewart's story far better than I. Yet, he allowed me—I stress _allowed_ me—a glimpse into his mind. I felt his soul, his burden, and saw the world he comes from." Dumbledore steepled his fingers and took another deep breath. "It is a horror world, full of insanity."

"But how were you cured?"

"This man from elsewhere can heal any wound he receives, save those by weapons that we have never heard of. He loaned me that healing. You see, he saw that I was dying. Saw it as we might with charms or tools."

The Potions Professor went pale in the evening light. "Why? He owes us nothing."

"I told you. I felt his soul. There is great love in him, balanced by an equal measure of anguish. He saw how the students love me, and my kindness as I tested him, questioned him. And so he offered me my health, because I am needed still. I accepted."

Snape considered the ramifications. If the Muggle could cure Dumbledore's hand, perhaps he could remove the Dark Mark. Not that he would ever do so for a man who had made himself as unpleasant as possible. But damn it all, how was he to know the Muggle had special powers. The bastard didn't tell anyone. And then to purposefully challenge him. It was too much!

"Why confront me before my students?" Snape shouted. He had worked himself back into a fit of anger.

"Theater, dear friend," he said with a smile, "to sew seeds of apparent rivalry. I told him about Voldemort, Potter, and the parts we play in this unfolding drama."

Snape's stomach fell. Dumbledore had given all their closest held secrets to a stranger. "Are. You. Mad?"

"I don't think so. You see, he saw through you and Malfoy shortly after meeting you. He simply had no context for his intuitions. Once I told him your past allegiances, he meant to kill you, and Draco. I stayed his hand by telling him nearly everything."

"This is a library of wild assumptions and poor decisions Albus!"

"Let me make my thoughts clear. Through Draco, and you, and the new thing we have set loose into the world, we will draw Voldemort into the open before this war is as bad as the last."

Snape fell backwards into the nearest chair.

"So you see, when he confronted you in front of the students, it was to be absolutely sure that our enemy knew of him...an insanely powerful Muggle who shows no fear of you."

"And the vow to protect the boy," Snape cleared his throat, "is theater as well?"

"No." Dumbledore's answer fell like lead onto the floor. "His declaration was over-blown, but the intention behind it is sure. Harry Potter has a guardian who will be a legend by tomorrow afternoon."

"We are all going to die."

"Severus, for the first time in recent memory, I am pleased to believe that we will live."


	13. Chapter 13

Frank landed in the courtyard, brushed himself off, and leapt the stone railing that separated the exterior hall from the greenery. A young couple was making out against a column, and they rapidly separated when they heard his boots hit the stone.

"Hey," Frank said, "don't stop on my account. Healthy expression of youthful energy, you know."

They saw who it was that encouraged them and all thoughts of sex fled their minds.

Frank walked away, not sure where he was going, but he had a lot of thinking and planning to do when he got there.

The young woman watched him go, and turned to her boyfriend.

"He seems quite kind."

The lad looked at her and shook his head. "I don't know, but I am sure I don't want him angry at me."

"I agree. No one will dare bother Harry ever again."

Boyfriend bit his lip. "Somebody is going to test that man's claims, and I don't want to be there when that happens."

-**HPDEB**-

A student, I didn't know his name, stopped me in the hall as I walked to...wherever it was that I was going. I had a glimpse of the Slytherin badge on his robe, and I predicted what was about to happen next, and was right.

He pulled out his wand, declared the spell, and zapped me with it. It was one of the transfiguration spells that Dumbledore had tried on me earlier...the one that caused very uncomfortable scenes.

I felt the spell try to take hold, and how my body tried to respond and fight it off at the same time. The look on the young wizard's face was priceless: total terror.

I walked towards him and raised my hands—the classic Frankenstein walk—and groaned. Even better, my hands (probably the rest of me, too) were rippling like disturbed water...very black, spiky water. Lucky for him, my body had gotten better with dealing with it. He probably would have passed out had he been the first to test it on me.

"Didn't you hear me," I burbled at him, "magic really can't harm me. But it can make me very ugly, and very ANGRY!"

When I rushed him, just for fun, he tripped on his robe and promptly wet himself. I cackled, and it came out sounding unbelievably awful.

My skin settled down after a moment, and I looked down at the terrified kid. I smiled, and squatted at his feet.

"Buddy, you're going to have to do a lot better than that next time." I gave his shoe a friendly pat. "I'll let you off easy today, but not tomorrow. Tell your Slytherin friends. They ought to know."

He nodded.

"Now, GO."

He got up and took off as fast as his feet could carry him. I watched him flee, and I imagined that his day would be much more interesting for meeting me.

I stood up and had a sudden desire to sit in a large armchair and cogitate on the topic of frequent sexual encounters with a pretty girl. There had to be a chair somewhere.

-**HPDEB**-

Eventually, Frank found the sort of chair he was looking for, right at the base of a stairway.

"Hot teenage girl," he mumbled to himself, "adult, sexy fun time, consenting, strange feelings."

"What in the world?" He asked out loud. No one was close enough to hear the question, no one he could see anyway.

He counted the strange feelings off on his fingers. Take care of. Control. Overpower. Possess. Show off. Like her a lot, really quick. Have normal people fun. Pretty!

"I don't know what's happening."

The ghosts of Hogwarts were having a grand time listening to him, and overjoyed that he didn't notice it.

Nearly-Headless Nick looked down at him and made tsk noises. "Terribly powerful, but you've got the sense of a stubborn goat, lad."

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione's alcove was well away from Frank's comfy chair. She'd backed into the stone nook and pulled her legs up behind her. It wasn't a desire to disappear that motivated her, she just didn't want to anyone to see her blushing like an apple.

"I don't feel like myself around him; I can barely think...I get...STUPID." She chided herself. "But everything feels so good. He's a generous lover. I couldn't ask for better than that. There are the OTHER things, too. Those things I keep saying."

Thinking clearly was still a bit of a challenge. Her cold logic and scientific process were disabled. It offended her, and yet made her blissfully happy, to remember how he felt between her legs. She'd pleased him!

"He wants to keep me safe," she breathed, "and not just my body. I heard it in his voice. Oh my. Oh my. He said he likes me. Oh my."

"Hermione?"

Luna had crept up in front of the alcove while she was trying hard to think in a straight line. She unfolded herself, and prepared to give her classmate a tongue-lashing for spilling her secret.

"Luna, why did you tell everyone at breakfast?"

The white-blonde girl cocked her head as though she truly didn't understand the question.

She asked Hermione. "Didn't you have fun?"

"I…"

"Don't you feel a little triumphant?"

"Eh…"

"Oh, I see. You're embarrassed. You're not celebrating." Luna nodded. "I'm sorry."

Hermione was a little surprised, and suddenly worried that Luna's feelings were hurt.

"Luna, I…"

"Don't worry, Hermione. I'll go be happy with Mister Stewart. I'm sure he had fun and is feeling good about it. You are very pretty. Men like pretty girls."

She couldn't believe her ears, and was too stunned to chase after Luna before she could say something else to someone.

-**HPDEB**-

Luna was true to her word. It didn't take much to find Mister Stewart, she'd noticed there always seemed to be Teksies near him, so all she had to do was follow where they were going.

He was sitting by a staircase, staring off into the distance, looking thoughtful. He knew she was there.

"Hello Mister Stewart!" She walked closer, slowly.

"Hi Luna. That was quite a conversational bomb you dropped this morning." He smiled, and she returned it.

"Yours was much more impressive. Do you know that Hogwarts validated your oath?"

Frank sat up straight in the armchair. He cocked an eyebrow and asked her for clarification.

"Hogwarts is alive. It heard you promise, and the walls rattled when you hit the floor," she pointed at the Man Scythe, "with that. So, it heard you and agreed."

"I didn't notice the noise."

"It wasn't a noise so much as a feeling. And, in any case, you were being dramatic." She nodded, and commented, "And you did a marvelous job, too."

"Thank you, I think."

"I also think you made a wonderful choice, taking Hermione to bed."

Luna watched him sputter, and felt curious as to why he was so stunned that she'd been aware of the match.

-**HPDEB**-

"Not that I'm going to confirm or deny what you've said, I am really interested in how you came to that conclusion." I tried to smile, but the girl freaked me out a little.

"Hermione's Wrackspurt infestation has been steadily improving. I've seen how she looks at you, and I've seen how you look back at her. The two of you have been that way since you arrived. Today, the Wrackspurts were gone. That she was so clearly relaxed and happy led me to the deduction that you two had made love, rather than simply declaring your feelings. A few seem to be bothering her again, though."

"Your powers of observation are incredible, Luna." I managed a wry smile this time, and accepted that the jig was up...at least with Luna.

"Are you happy for it?"

"For what?" I asked

"That the two of you made love. Did you have fun?"

I blushed and felt every bit of half my age. "Yes to both."

Luna's expression, usually pleasant, but flat, brightened, and her eyes focused for a moment. Her smile was beatific.

"I'm so very glad. I'm happy as well."

"Would you do me...well, us...a favor?" I decided to be forward, since she didn't hold her punches. "Don't tell anyone until we're ready. Things are still sorting out."

"I understand. My lips are sealed. Do you mind if I sit with you a while? I like being around happiness, and the Teksies are so very fond of you. They are difficult to find among magicals."

I decided I didn't want to know what Teksies are.

"Be my guest, Luna. I don't mind company." I was a little surprised when she sat down beside my leg and leaned on me. But knowing that Luna was a bit different from the rest of the students, and much less afraid of me, I found I didn't mind at all. Resisting the urge to pet her little blonde head, however was rather difficult.

"Feel free to pet me," said Luna, without once looking at me. "It feels quite lovely. Rather comforting. My mother used to do that when I sat with her."

I was a bit unnerved, but there really wasn't much reason to continue to resist, so I absentmindedly pet her head while I was lost in thought.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione was still sitting in her little nook when Parvati and Lavender found her.

"Hermione! I know we swore not to tell anyone, but please, we want to talk to you. We've been looking for you all morning!"

"Looking for me?"

"Yes! Luna ratted on you, and then you left right after breakfast."

"We have questions for you. We want to know what it was like." Parv was breathless with anticipation.

"I hardly think—" 

"Come now, Hermione, you _must_ share. It's what girls do," Lavender prodded mercilessly.

"But it isn't appropriate—"

"Oh, never mind that, we'll keep it between us. We swear. We'll give you a witch's oath, if you want."

Hermione's brain hadn't quite recovered enough to handle the rapid fire questions and answers. "Well, I don't think—"

"Fabulous! Who was it, Hermione? I can't imagine it was anyone in Gryffindor." Parvati grinned, eyes a-twinkle.

"Don't be silly, Parv. It's obvious. Or at least it should be. It was Frank, wasn't it? He is rather handsome. He'd be quite fanciable if he wasn't so scary."

Hermione put her hands to her ears. She did _not_ want to have this conversation. "Lavender, Parvati, if you're going to insist on having this conversation, we should at least take this back to our dorm. The walls have ears, you know that."

The girls looked appropriately chastised, but recovered quickly and pulled Hermione along with them all the way up to their dorm.

Parvati slammed the door to the room, and the two of them nearly threw Hermione onto the bed before they surrounded her.

Parvati tried to cajole her, saying, "Hermione, please, you _must_ tell us about it."

"I don't really think I should. It's private."

"We don't really need the specifics. Let's start with an easy one. What was it like?"

Hermione scoffed. "Parvati, you _can't_ expect me to believe that neither of you have—"

"Never!" Cried Lavender. Parvati nodded in support. "Although it's not for lack of trying on my part."

Hermione groaned. "I didn't need to hear that."

Her brain was working fast, despite the unwanted information. She had beat Lavender to something. She was the most knowledgeable female in her year at Hogwarts about something completely unrelated to education!

Hermione sat up straighter. The girls did deserve some knowledge about the act beyond just the mechanics before they actually engaged in it. If she made this educational, it would be ok to talk about, right?

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

The girls squealed and attacked her with rapid fire questions.

"How did it feel? Was he big?"

"Did it hurt?"

"Did you...finish?"

"Was he gentle?"

"Was he rough?"

"Did he seduce you?"

"Or did you seduce him?"

The girls collapsed into a pile of giggles.

Hermione just stopped herself from sighing. It was going to be a long afternoon.

"It felt fabulous. His size is private information. It didn't hurt at all. There's a lovely feeling of fullness, and certain bits rub together that lead to a fabulous...completion. I...finished...as you put it at least fifteen times overall. I rather lost count between foreplay—"

"FIFTEEN!"

Lavender shook her head in disbelief. "That's not humanly possible! You'd surely be unconscious, or dead to the world for days!"

"Not at all!" Hermione stifled her laughter. How little these girls knew!

"D'you think he's experienced? Is that why he gave you all the...finishing?" Parvati asked.

"Well, he is thirty. I would expect he's had a lover or two before." No reason to tell them about Charlotte. That was a more private matter than the size of his penis. "He definitely knows what he's doing."

"I'm going to swoon! If only Ron were experienced!"

"Ew! Lav!" Parvati made a face. "I'd rather talk about Hermione's experiences!"

"Fine. Well," Lavender got back into the swing of things without any trouble, "did you...ah...was he...did he like doing it with you?"

"I quote, 'Yes. Dear God, yes. You're amazing, Hermione. Absolutely amazing!'"

"But! But! You've never _done_ itbefore! How can you be amazing if you don't have any experience?"

"Lavender, don't you know? I read EVERYTHING?"


	14. Chapter 14

Frank was still sitting in the chair, petting Luna's head, when Harry strolled up.

"Excuse me," he said, "Professor Dumbledore would like to see us in his office."

It was odd, Harry noticed, to see Frank so lost in thought that he didn't seem to notice he'd been spoken to.

"It's alright, Harry." Luna raised her head. "He's been like this for almost an hour. It's very nice when he's quiet."

Harry pointed. "He's still petting you. Do you think he's sleep-petting or something?"

She shook her head.

"No. He's gone away inside his head. The Teksies say so. And he also stopped breathing."

Harry gave a start.

"Not breathing?! We've got to get him help or something! I'll run and get Madame Pomfrey!"

"Calm down, Harry. He's still warm. I don't think he's very normal at all."

"But!" Harry teetered on the edge of panic.

Luna shifted, so Frank's hand flopped instead of landing on her head. The man in the chair shook. Once. Twice. And then he inhaled.

Frank's eyes focused on Harry. His eyebrows went up, and he spoke.

"Hey."

"Luna," he pointed at his classmate, "said you weren't breathing!"

"Oh. Sorry, kids. I didn't mean to panic you like that." Frank frowned. "Every so often, I do that. Usually when I'm thinking very hard."

Harry shuffled his feet. It was another bizarre thing to add to the list of bizarre things that happened around Frank Stewart.

"I'm glad you're alive. I came to fetch you. Dumbledore would like to see us to discuss this morning."

"Got it." Frank got up from the chair and held out a hand for Luna. "Thank you for sitting with me, Luna. It was nice to have company."

She pulled herself up and thanked him in return.

"You're very kind and it was very pleasant for me, too. Good day Harry, and you too, Mr. Stewart."

The two of them watched the singular young woman slip away down the hall.

"Luna is adorable," Frank said, "but just a little on the far side of typical teenager."

"Do you mean she's barmy?" Harry asked, shifting in his robe and trying very hard to keep anger from his voice. Luna was a good friend of his, after all.

"No. She's not crazy at all. If anything, she's disturbingly observant and honest. Really refreshing, if you ask me."

He smiled, it was a wistful sort of smile. Another thing Harry took note of.

They walked off together and didn't say a word until they gave the proper password to the gargoyle. Dumbledore called out for them to enter as the reached the top of the stairs.

"Good afternoon, Harry, Frank. Do come in."

Harry walked into the office and sat in one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. It was habit. Frank walked over to the nearest bookshelves and leaned against them.

"So, Harry, I'm told that Frank's flair for drama has caused you some distress."

"Yes!" Potter remembered how upset he'd been earlier. "I don't need a bodyguard, and it isn't right to make decisions without me!"

Professor Dumbledore nodded.

"I understand your feelings. In fact, before you brought Frank into our world, I would have agreed that you don't need a bodyguard. That being said, the Room of Requirement provides what you need, and it called out to you, specifically."

Harry's mentor leaned across his desk. "You do realize, of course, that this has very little to do with you needing protection?"

"Yes, but...er...what?"

"Frank, clearly, is here for you. You either need him now, or will soon." The professor indicated the man by the books. "He and I have spent a number of days testing every spell and charm I know that may be used against a person."

Frank stepped into the conversation.

"Dumbledore and I learned that magic really doesn't do anything much to me."

"Truly? Every spell...wait!" Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "You didn't try the Unforgivables, did you?"

His professor nodded.

"The Killing Curse, as you can see, does not kill Frank. Cruciatus has no effect at all, nor does the Imperious Curse. Some spells, like Bombarda, cause damage, but he heals very quickly."

Harry's jaw dropped. It was impossible.

"Mind you," Frank added, "Wingardium Leviosa does make me float, but only for a few moments. Incarcerous only lasts until I cut myself loose."

"Can you…" Words failed young Potter. "Are… Why?"

"Our friend is loathe to admit it, but he is a much a Muggle as we are. Our Frank Stewart is," Dumbledore paused, "quite unique in our world, and in his own."

"Enough about me, let's deal with the thing that bothers you, Harry. I swore to be your protector, and you'd like a good reason for it. We have three. Professor?"

Dumbledore nodded towards Frank. "Frank is more than a match for any Death Eater or other enemy you're likely to encounter. Truly, I believe Frank could take on a dragon and send it limping away!"

"I'll tell you if I meet one." Frank allowed himself a grin. "The next reason is of a purely tactical nature. I explained this to Hermione earlier in order to avoid her curly wrath."

Harry had to laugh, he'd been there a time or two himself.

"People have a tendency to look at the new thing, the dangerous thing, or the unusual thing, rather than what they've become used to." Frank continued. "I am that new thing, and by pledging myself to your protection, I've become even more notable. Not only will I be keeping you safer, I'll also be taking some of the spotlight off you."

"Do you mean that people will take less notice of me?" This was something he could get behind.

"Yes." Frank nodded. "You'll be able to move around a little more freely, and any things you undertake may meet with less resistance."

"I don't take your meaning."

"Okay. Death Eaters will be busy trying to kill me, not you. Trust me, I'll keep them occupied. Actually, that leads into our third reason for appointing me to this job. Professor?"

"The notoriety that Frank will develop could bring our enemy out of hiding sooner than he has planned upon. To kill you, he now has to overcome your protector, and will spend his resources in hopes of doing just that. Without those resources, the enemy is forced into a corner. He must either leave the battlefield, or press his advance in hopes of victory."

"If Tom Riddle decides to run and hide, we have time to hunt him down." Frank shrugged as if doing such a thing was simple. "On the other hand, if he's stupid enough to engage you, or me, he's going to die. Simple. Problem solved."

Harry Potter sat in the chair, stunned. Frank's declaration hadn't been a spur of the moment decision, and it didn't reflect on whether he was capable of taking care of himself. It was quite a relief to know what was going on behind his back.

"How will you know I'm in trouble if you're not near me?" It was a good, practical question.

"Just call my name and I'll hear you, day or night. Also, I've been doing a little exploration of Hogwarts and the school grounds, and I can get almost anywhere in between two and four minutes if I need to."

"That's mad! No one moves that fast!"

"Harry, have you forgotten what you saw me do in the tunnel when we first met?" Frank stared down his nose at Potter. "Your memory is better than that."

"I. Well, I do remember. Maybe I didn't realize that's normal for you."

Frank laughed. "I wouldn't call it normal, but it is within my power to move that fast when I need to, and I don't mind climbing or falling from great heights."

"So," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling, "do our plans make more sense to you know?

"Yes, Sir. Thank you. Thank you both."

"Very good. Run along to feast, Harry. We will be along presently."

Harry stood up, nodded to both men, and took his leave.

-**HPDEB**-

"It's nice, not having to lie to him."

Dumbledore looked at me and nodded.

"What is nice, Frank, is knowing that your promise to him is not a sham."

"No. I would never do such a thing."

The old man smiled, and waggled his newly healed hand at me. "And that, dear boy, is why I can entrust him to you without concern! But what are we going to do so we can keep track of him if he's in trouble?" Dumbledore asked me.

"Healing you gave me the solution. I put a few machines in his bloodstream. They'll monitor his location and health, and inform me if I need to be there. In an extreme circumstance, I can borrow his senses."

"You've tested this?"

"Yes. I just didn't tell anyone about it. Magical textbooks, I learned, can be a little dry." I just couldn't get interested in potions. I never liked chemistry in school and it reminds me a lot of that.

After I excused myself from Dumbledore's office, I stood in the Gargoyle Hallway and grinned. I had this sudden urge to wear that kilt. Dinner could wait a few minutes.

-**HPDEB**-

Dinner at the Gryffindor table was odd that night. It began with a million little whispers the moment Frank walked into the hall about five minutes late. He looked very uncomfortable at the hubub.

Harry wondered why, and reminded himself that none of them had been in the meeting with Frank and Professor Dumbledore. No one else quite knew what to expect of Frank next.

For himself, Harry was glad of the earlier conversation, because his anger at being surprised with a bodyguard was gone, and he better understood the reasons for it.

Still, Frank had made a huge impression on everyone, slamming that weapon on the stones and making such a grand pronouncement. No wonder it got all whispery when he arrived.

"Good evening, Frank," he said when the man approached the table.

"Hi Scruffy. Is there room for one more?"

Hermione scooted over so quickly, Harry was sure she'd have a splinter in her bum.

He spent a moment wondering who she'd slept with. Krum hadn't been around in some time. Quite a mystery!

Frank sat down between them, nodded at the other students, and quietly put his hands on the table. That's when he apologized for shocking everyone so badly at breakfast.

Harry was the first to say, "Oh, don't mention it." The rest of Gryffindor exploded with individual replies of a similar nature.

"'S alright," Ron said. "Next time, not so loud. Oh, and no surprises 'bout Hermione's sex life."

"RONALD WEASELY!" Hermione whispered very loudly. "At least I have one! From what I hear, you little eunuch, you don't!"

Harry's eyes bugged out. The world was about to come to an end, right at the Gryffindor table!

Lavender looked ready to pass out.

Parvati looked prepared to run away.

"Children!" Frank said sternly, but quietly. "This is _NOT_ the time or the place. Personal lives are _PERSONAL_. Act your age."

Harry and the rest were stunned. Hermione sat back, Ron's face slowly changed back to a normal pink color, and the threat of imminent damnation dissipated.

"Yes, Sir," Hermione whispered.

"Right. Erm. Sorry."

Frank looked over the table and pointed. "Ron, take care of your girlfriend. Someone passing out would bring way too much attention."

Eventually, friendly good humor returned to the table. Frank even did some silly tricks with his right arm. The "talking snake" was terribly disturbing, but gut wrenchingly funny too!

"Maybe it won't be so bad," Harry thought, "to have someone to watch my back. I can't imagine how scary Frank would be if he wanted."

-**HPDEB**-

I wandered off to bed after checking to make sure all was well in the Gryffindor common room. The students were definitely getting used to me, and had even started to get on my case about my choice of clothing.

"Mister Stewart, didn' ya' know kilts are outta style!" Seamus called out.

"I don't care."

"What're you standin' like that for, legs all akimbo?" Neville asked when he looked up from the chess board.

"My young friend, I am catching a breeze!"

Harry laughed himself sick. Ron got a chuckle in as well. Hermione, well, she blushed.

I noticed that I got some interesting looks from Lavender and Parvati as well. Had someone been talking to her friends? I wonder.

Answers might be forthcoming if I had another visitation from a certain young woman that night.

"Well, you all sleep well. Okay?"

They chorused their farewells—always makes me smile—and I strolled off to my room.

I felt Hermione's eyes burning into my back as I left. Yeah. Night visitor.

-**HPDEB**-

Sneaking out was harder. Parvati and Lavender were probably faking being asleep. Their curiosity was unending, but then so was hers.

Hermione avoided Prefects in the halls with the ease of long practice, and a periodic charm at the right time, in the right place. She could probably bluff her way through as a prefect, but she'd need her wits about her to do that. It was lucky she could think at all. Frank had changed clothes after they'd spoken...and dallied...and wore a kilt to dinner.

All she could imagine was her hands sliding up his legs and under the wool. Knowing what she'd find, and the effect she had on him, was intoxicating. Tonight, she was sure, she wanted his pleasure more than her own.

God knows, she'd had plenty of that!

She found his door open, so she sauntered inside. Of course, he was waiting. He'd known she was on her way. It boggled her, what the machines allowed him to do.

"You know," he said, "Lavender and Parvati were giving me very curious looks tonight."

She blushed to her hairline.

"They pressured me. I didn't tell them everything. In fact, I barely told them more than things felt amazing."

She shuffled her feet, and got angry at herself for it. Where did her implacable will go?

Frank laughed.

"But you did tell them it was me?"

She blushed. "Lavender guessed, Sir."

He waved his hand and told her that he wasn't angry, but he did wonder what would come of them knowing.

"They know that I'd take a very dim view of them sharing information. I'd make their little lives miserable." She didn't fight baring her teeth at the thought.

"Curly, you are scary. I kind of like it."

"Um, I don't want to be for you. I want all the things I've said, and more."

"I know you do. What do you want to learn tonight?"

Hermione's stomach did a flip, but she managed to walk across to where he was seated on the edge of the bed. She knelt down, and tried to indicate what she wanted without speaking, or being too rude.

"Oh. It's about me this time?"

"Yes, Sir. May I?"

"Certainly," he said, and moved his knees apart ever so slightly.

-**HPDEB**-

"How did you get so...OH MY!... at this?"

"Mumble," she said, and then leaned back from me. "I read _everything_."

"Oh dear."

Thank you, God (that I may or may not believe in) for girls who read everything!

"Oh! Hold up!" I waved her away. "We're going to have company in a minute. Did you charm things?"

"Drat!"

Hermione pulled her wand.

"Wait."

"Why?" Hermione asked, ready to wave her wand.

Frank laughed.

"It's Lavender, Parvati, and I think her sister Padma. Do we want to have some fun with this?"

She gave him a sidelong glance, and asked, "What kind of fun?"

"Oh, just a little…Oh my God. Parvati just wondered if you and I are exclusive."

"What?!" She couldn't believe her ears, but quickly filed that issue away for later discussion.

"Okay, we have to do some outrageous roleplay to get them all a-twitter before we drop the hammer on them. Just lock the door, and we can have some fun. They're at the bottom of the stairs right now."

"You know, after this," Hermione paused to lock the door, "I'm going to kill at least two of them."

"Turn the other cheek. Okay, they're just about here. Follow my lead?"

"Yes, Sir!"

-**HPDEB**-

The trio, led by Lavender, crept up the steps to Frank's room. She'd heard Ron mention the location a few days before and was sure to stuff the information away for future use.

"She's going to make our lives a living Hell for this, Lav." Padma wrung her hands, a habit her twin sister didn't share. "Is curiosity worth it? You're not even attracted to the man."

"Look, this is terribly exciting. Hermione's gone and had sex with an older man, and I want to learn everything about it...all for Won-won."

Parvati spoke up.

"Well, I find him quite easy on the eyes. Dashing. Dangerous. Scrumptious."

"Sis, you're mad! Do you think you could sway him away from her or something?"

"Padma, come on! Hermione never said they're exclusive or anything. He might have a little free time. You know."

"Shh! We have to get up the stairs, and hope they forgot to lock the door and silence the area. I want to see everything!" Lavender said, she was in her element and loved it. "Besides, a little scandal is delicious!"

The little troop gained the stairs and crept towards the door. Lavender tried the knob, but it was locked tight. They didn't hear anything unusual, but they didn't think a silencing charm had been applied.

"Poo!" Lav whispered. "Locked!"

"Well, she's not stupid!" Padma hissed. "Be happy she was too excited to silence the room."

-**HPDEB**-

"Do you remember what we discussed, Hermione? The things that we're going to do tonight?"

She smiled and said, "Oh, yes, Sir. You must take me that way! Please!"

Frank clapped his hand once. Hermione saw where he was going with it and moaned.

"Sir, again. Please. I need it. Tell me I'm a bad student."

Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Your grades are deplorable, Miss Granger. I'm very disappointed."

Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Yes, Professor, I'm such a very bad student. I'm so very naughty as well!"

"Yes," Frank said, clapping faster, "so very naughty. I'm going to make your perky bum red as punishment. Perhaps you'll learn to do better."

"Oh, oh God! Oh yes! Improve my study habits!"

-**HPDEB**-

Outside the door, the girls stared at one another. They couldn't believe their ears! Hermione was such a little pervert!

Parvati, on the other hand, was trying to cope with sudden arousal. Perverted or not, it sounded so hot!

Padma held her hands tight against her lips. She felt dirty even being near such a thing.

Lavender, her face flushed a vibrant pink, felt insanely jealous.

"I can't believe this," Parvati whispered, "Hermione of all people!"

"I know! I know!" Lavender hissed.

-**HPDEB**-

After a few minutes of increasingly frequent clapping, Hermione decided to take control of the story.

"Oh! Oh! Professor, please! Teach my Gryffindor sisters! Please!"

Frank looked at her like she'd lost her mind, but she waved him on.

"Yes, you naughty girl. I will teach them, soundly!" He kept clapping his hands every few seconds.

"GOD! Teach them your dark arts! Dark arts! GOD! I'm going to pass my exam! I'm going to pass my exam!"

"Yes, pass it. Pass it for Professor."

She moaned dramatically, and tried to keep a straight face.

"Make them good students...oh...make them naughty good students...oh…" Her voice trailed off.

Frank clapped his hands harder, and faked a noise that sounded like a growl and a groan of satisfaction. Hermione'd heard something like that before, in a certain circumstance, so she picked up the story with gusto.

"Oh, oh Professor. Oh! I want to watch while you teach Parvati the dark arts. Oh, please, use your magnificent wand and make her pass her exams!"

"Oh, I shall! I shall!" Wordless growls.

"She'll be so lovely when you teach her! Professor! She's a good naughty girl! Please teach her hard!"

"Of course, professor's pet. I will take her very seriously. Rrrrr."

"Lavender, too? She needs to be taught, vigorously. I want her to pass lots of exams. Ron can't teach her anything!"

-**HPDEB**-

The eavesdropping trio were speechless. Padma just stared at them and couldn't even imagine what they were feeling. What truly bothered her was how Parvati's eyes were closed and she was swaying back and forth.

Lavender, on the other hand, was wide-eyed, like she'd been caught with her hand in the chocolate frog box.

-**HPDEB**-

"He can't teach her?" Frank growled. "Well, perhaps I need to teach him my dark arts!"

-**HPDEB**-

It was just too much. Lavender squealed, "Leave my Won-won's bottom alone you nasty man!"

"Oh my GOD, Lav!" Parvati yipped and slapped her friend on top of her head.

"We're dead. We're very, very dead." Padma sighed and covered her head with both hands.

-**HPDEB**-

Frank and Hermione dissolved into hysterical laughter. They couldn't have gone on after that if they'd wanted to.

-**HPDEB**-

"We've...we've been had." Parvati whispered. "Lav, you stupid cow, we're going to die now, and we can't even run away. They'll find us."

"You know," Frank said from behind the door, "Hermione is quite angry with you."

Lavender faced the door, ran her hand through her hair, and prepared to meet her maker.

"I don't suppose," she said, "you'd accept a heartfelt apology?"

They heard Hermione's voice. It was colder than they'd ever heard before.

"Oh yes, very angry indeed. You're quite lucky, you know. He heard the three of you at the bottom of the stairs, and thought we'd give you a little show instead of teaching you a lesson straight away."

"We're sorry, Hermione!" Padma wailed. "I'm sorry! I deserve whatever's coming for me."

"You know, I'm a little annoyed that Frank won't let me teach you a lesson _my_ way." Hermione growled a little at the end.

"I've noticed that she can be pretty harsh when she wants to be." He laughed. "So, the three of you are going to go back to bed and we won't speak of this again. Agreed?"

"Yes, Sir," they whispered in unison.

"Good," said Hermione, "we've got things to get back to. Enjoy not knowing about my 'exams' or how many times I 'finish'. Oh, and Parvati?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"He's mine."

A moment later and there was nothing more to hear. Hermione had silenced the area.

Before the girls parted ways, Padma said, "Parvati?"

"Yes, Sis?"

"If she kills me, too, I'm never going to forgive you. Not ever."

"I know. Sleep well if you can. At least you're safe from her at night."

Disheartened and worried, they snuck back to their respective dorms.

Before Parvati and Lavender got in their beds, Parvati said, "They got us good. God, I'm envious, all the attention she's getting."

"Yes. I'm so angry that she's gets all the 'finishing' and I can't even get one."

Lavender crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head, chagrined at what she'd just revealed.

"I just hope we don't wake up as toads in the morning."

-**HPDEB**-

"Finish?"

"Well, you know, Sir...orgasms."

"Oh!"

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione crept back into her room and was pleased to find her roommates asleep. She silenced the area around her bed and grabbed the book of hexes she'd checked out of the library under the assumption that they wouldn't be able to keep quiet.

She double checked the pages she'd marked to ensure she had the correct pronunciation and wand movements, then grinned evilly. Neither Lavender nor Parvati would have the sleek, shiny hair they were so proud of for the next couple of days. They'd also have difficulty keeping their legs shaved.

-**HPDEB**-

"Hermione, please, we're sorry. I didn't think it would be a problem to tell Padma. She's my twin. We share _everything_!"

"I warned you. I warned you both. This should keep you from forgetting again."

"We won't forget, Hermione. Honest! Just please, undo these hexes!"

Hermione almost felt sorry for the girls. "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? Surely you didn't curse us with something that has no counter!" Lavender felt faint, unsure if her roommate would do such a thing. She hadn't forgotten what Hermione's charmed parchment had done to Marietta.

"They do have counters, if the traditional version is used. But this is timed. It will last for two days. Do it again, and who knows how long it will last."

" _Two days!_ " The girls moaned.

"What are we going to do with our hair for two days?"

"I find a plait can work to some degree," Hermione said as she walked away from them. "Enjoy, girls."


	15. Chapter 15

Nagini slithered across the wool rug in the front sitting room. Voldemort, himself, slouched somewhat sideways in the chair nearest the fireplace. It was preferable to be close to an exit in almost every case.

Lucius Malfoy strode into the room, quietly. His failures were accumulating, and disturbing the Dark Lord during his meditations could be deadly. Still, he had a report to deliver, fresh from Draco's owl,

"My Lord," Lucius bowed, "my son has sent us another report."

"Is this mysterious Muggle making trouble for your son again? Draco finds him belligerent, perhaps?" Voldemort barely raised his eyes to Malfoy's face. "Or is this more of a...familial matter?"

"The Muggle, My Lord. News of the Muggle." Lucius shifted on the balls of his feet. "According to Draco's letter, the man declared himself Potter's protector yesterday morning."

Voldemort's head turned with a disturbing fluid motion. Nagini's head did much the same. Two sets of predatory eyes burned holes in Lucius' composure.

"What?" Voldemort hissed.

"Yes. This man, Frank Stewart, claims to be immune to magic as well. He stated it in his proclamation."

"Lucius, your son sends you preposterous stories. I assume you informed him to be wary of rumors. I despair for the next generation of wizards."

"Draco is not given to lies my Lord. He quotes the Muggle's speech."

"So, amuse me with this madman's statement."

Malfoy read it, and Voldemort laughed.

"How droll. How very droll. We need more Muggles like him."

Lucius blinked and asked, "Whatever for, my Lord?"

Voldemort sat up straight and steepled his fingers together. "If there are more, as insane as he, they will destroy themselves and save us the trouble."

"I do worry, Lord." Lucius shuddered. He was near to disagreeing with Voldemort, a very unsafe thing to do. "Draco reports that Hogwarts validated the promise. The walls shook."

"What? Give me the letter!"

Lucius approached just close enough to pass the parchment to Voldemort's skeletal fingers. The Dark Lord read the letter, hissing all the while.

"Incendio!"

Draco's letter flashed into flames.

"Send me Karnak, Lucius. I would have eyes I trust report to me of these unsavory goings on."

"At once, my Lord."

Lucius Malfoy escaped with his life again. One day, he wouldn't be so lucky.

-**HPDEB**-

Late Friday afternoon in the courtyard, Harry found himself face to face with a group of Slytherins, led by Draco Malfoy.

"The dread Muggle will appear if anyone accosts you, Potter? Isn't that what he said?" Draco sneered. "Where is he now?"

Safe in the knowledge that Frank would be able to get to him easily, Harry could treat Malfoy with the disdain he deserved. "Draco, you're not accosting me at the moment." Harry adjusted his glasses.

Malfoy turned to his little gang and shouted, "Well, accost him you idiots!"

Four of them separated from the group and moved towards Harry. Their wands weren't out, and their demeanor suggested that they'd try to pummel him, rather than use their wands.

"Stopping now might be a good idea," Harry told them, completely unperturbed. "I really think so."

"Why Potter? He hasn't appeared yet." Draco looked smug, it was a talent of his.

Harry pointed up, over Draco's shoulder. "He will in a moment."

All of the Slytherin students stopped dead in their tracks when they heard something hit the ground behind Draco.

"Hello," Frank said, brushing the dust from his new robes. "I saw you bothering my charge and thought I'd drop in. That's a pun, you know."

Draco seemed to try to hide his fear by not turning around, but he couldn't keep the quaver from his voice.

"Is that you, Muggle?"

"Yes, my little blond darling." Frank messed up his hair."Child, what do you use to keep your hair so stiff? Are you hiding a receding hairline?"

To his credit, Harry didn't guffaw or titter, but it was terribly hard not to.

"Hello. What's this then?" Neville asked.

Harry turned around to see that a crowd of his fellow Gryffindors had walked over. He felt terrible for Malfoy, but only for a second, knowing that his humiliation had so many witnesses.

"Hey! Ron! Hermione! Neville! Lavender! And the rest of my favorite House!"

"Good afternoon Mister Stewart!" They chorused.

"Did you see Draco and his friends being insufferable prigs?"

"Yes, Sir!" They cried.

Suddenly, the heir to Malfoy was alone. His friends had fled, just in case Stewart singled them out for correction.

Frank spun Draco around and stared down at his burning cheeks.

"You and I don't get along, son. We have deep differences of opinion." Frank spoke with a very even tone. "Test my commitment to Potter one more time and I will break both your legs. If Professor Snape cares to express his displeasure, I am at his convenience."

"My father…"

"Will hear of this. Yes, yes, I've heard it all before. Get out of here and don't let me see your face again until I have to."

Malfoy ran away.

"Thank you again Frank," said Harry. "I'm still amazed at how quickly you can show up."

Frank smiled at him, but didn't say anything. Harry noticed most of the Gryffindors nodding to his statement. Hermione, however, only had eyes for Frank. Harry hadn't quite figured out why her attention shifted so dramatically when Frank was around...but he had a theory.

"Oh, Harry," Frank said, "do you have time for a walk and chat? I'd like to continue our afternoon conversations."

"Of course we have time!" Hermione burst into the conversation.

"Actually, and no offense, I meant Harry and me."

"I've got some of time." Harry said. "Let's go!"

His bodyguard nodded, and they started walking towards the main gate. Frank was well aware that half of the Gryffindor crowd was trying to follow them as covertly as possible. He was also aware that they were well out of earshot.

"We're being followed, aren't we?" Harry asked.

"Yep!"

"What do they think we're going to talk about? Girls? Quidditch?"

"Harry, we can talk about anything and everything."

Harry nodded, nearly dislodging the glasses that seemed to have a perpetually precarious hold on his nose.

"I have been wondering about something, speaking of girls."

Frank couldn't help but smile, Harry was a nice, honest young man.

"Hermione seems to," Harry rolled some words around in his brain, "like you quite a bit. You know, a little like Lavender likes Ron."

"Hm, I've noticed that, too." Frank was playing nonchalant to the hilt. They knew it would only be a matter of time before someone had questions. "Have you asked her about it?"

"Are you kidding? You've seen what she's like when she's angry. I like my trousers where they are, thank you very much."

They reached the end of the bridge. Frank pointed to rock, large enough to sit on, on the side of the road to Hogsmeade. Harry nodded and followed along.

"Yeah, Hermione is one of a kind. Strong and fragile at the same time. She was seriously pissed off at me for not telling you guys what I was going to do. Thank goodness magic doesn't work on me!" Frank paused for a moment, and asked him, "So, do you like Hermione?"

Harry looked aghast for a moment before he protested that he likes her, but doesn't LIKE her.

"More like a sister than a love interest?" Frank asked.

"Exactly! I'm not really good at, you know, girls."

"I wasn't successful in that subject for many years."

Harry looked strangely serious when he asked, "When did it change?"

It was Frank's turn to look uncomfortable.

"Eh, I'm not entirely sure it ever has. I met quite a few really great women, but none of them seemed to want to stick around. Of course, then the world fell apart and love was hardly on anyone's mind." He deliberately didn't go into aspects of his past that Hermione was aware of.

"Hm. I'd kind of like to meet someone and have a nice relationship, like Dean and Ginny seem to."

"The adorable little redhead? She's Ron's sister, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"The red hair runs strong in his family," Frank grinned, "and I think she'll be even lovelier when she grows up."

"Oh, the whole Weasley family has red hair. Dad. Mum. Ginny. Bill. Charlie. Ron. Percy. Fred and George: they're twins. Graduated last year. They opened up a joke and prank store in Diagon Alley."

"Are they all wizards?" Frank asked Harry.

"Every one of them. That's not uncommon." Harry picked up a pebble and rolled it around in his fingers. "Hermione and Dean are the unusual ones. Neither of their parents are Wizards. Sometimes you see a Wizard who has one parent who's a Muggle, like my mum and dad."

The breeze picked up, and Harry was glad to be wearing his scarf. Frank, he noticed, never really reacted to changes in temperature. Another strange thing about what had happened to him, Harry guessed.

"You wanted to talk about more than girls, didn't you, Harry?"

Harry looked up at the clouds, and felt no small measure of concern that he would anger the man who'd sworn to protect him. Frank Stewart could be terrifying.

"Hermione told me she yelled at you the other morning for not telling her about your plan. She told me that you explained yourself, and that she trusted you." Harry stopped for a moment because he was feeling unusual emotions. "We did talk with Professor Dumbledore, and he explained, but I don't understand why you agreed to help me."

"Oh," Frank nodded, "Hermione didn't tell you everything then. I think I was pretty forthcoming with her."

"I did ask, but she told me that it was your story to tell, not hers."

"That's fair," Frank said, and stood up. "The professor told me about you, that you're the 'boy who lived,' and it hit me square in my heart. I know about your parents, your Uncle, Voldemort, and what your destiny is."

"All of that?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes. I identify with you, and I want to help you do what you need to do, even if I have to hold Voldemort still while you do him in."

"You're a power that the Dark Lord knows not." Harry whispered the words. The thought had just come to him; Voldemort would never be able to understand or accept that someone like Frank exists. On top of that, simply, Voldemort has never met him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing really. Go on." Harry lied, of course. He was almost shaking in his shoes. He almost wanted to ask when Frank's birthday was.

"You can have Hermione tell you what I told her. I don't feel like dwelling on my past when I want to help you secure your future."

"I've never...Forgive me. No one but my friends and Dumbledore have been this kind to me. I'm not really used to it."

"Maybe you need that, too." Frank turned and called out, "Ron, you can come out of the bushes now. Neville, climbing trees doesn't suit you."

"I'm not sure I can get down, Sir!"

Frank sighed and walked over to a nearby pine tree.

"Let go Neville. I'll catch you."

"But!"

"Boy, don't make me climb up there and get you," Frank threatened.

Neville let go, and landed in the arms of the nicest terrifying person he'd ever met. Ron had an easier time, he just stood up.

"You being able to find us is very unsettling!" Ron complained.

Frank put Neville down and replied, "Get used to it Ginger! I'm surprised Hermione isn't with you two."

"Nah," Neville shook his head, "Parvati, Padma and Lavender took her off somewhere."

"Well, maybe that will give me a rest from her piercing little eyes," Frank said with illustrative pinching gestures.

The boys laughed. It was a good thing.

On the walk back, Harry tried something, knowing that Frank's hearing is above average

He whispered, "Did they hear everything we were saying?"

His bodyguard didn't seem to notice, but he did say something to his classmates.

"You guys were slow, you know?"

"Wha?" Ron asked.

"Harry and I had a full five minutes together before you two arrived. You didn't get to hear everything." Frank laughed at them. "That means that my charge and I have our secrets!"

Frank looked down at Harry and explained that to complete the moment, they needed to have an evil laugh together.

"Come on, let's make it count! Yar-har-har-har-haaaaaaa!"

Harry joined in with his own, "Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-heeeee!"

"Can't we do the evil laughs too?" Neville sounded quite sad.

"Sure, but they won't mean anything," answered Frank.

"Blimey," Ron groaned, "that's harsh."

"Let's hurry," Harry said, "they'll be serving dinner soon!"


	16. Chapter 16

It was Saturday of their Hogsmeade weekend holiday, and the golden trio was having a ball in the Three Broomsticks. I got an earful of all the gossip, complaints about NEWT exams, and general goings on with their professors.

Me? I was only half listening. The majority of my mind was on the future.

Eventually, Voldemort or someone would send something to test me. Then, they might send something to kill Harry, just to see what I'd do. I had to wonder which of the two it might happen first, and what the potential opponents might be.

Harry mentioned that he'd killed a troll his first year of school, so I was aware the wizarding world has mythical creatures. There's an option: attack by mythical beasts. Voldemort's foot soldiers, Death Eaters, were certainly another possibility.

Dumbledore had mentioned dragons. I'm not particularly fond of fire — as it was how I lost my arm and eye in the first place — but it won't do anything more than give me a lot to heal from. Chances are, I could kill a giant flying lizard by myself. Might be a challenge, even!

"Guys, I'm going to take a little walk around this cute little village. I'll hear you if you need me."

They told me they'd be fine, and hoped I'd enjoy the town.

"It seems nice. I'll be back in a little bit," I said, and left the kids in the tavern.

Honestly, I really wanted a little fresh air, and I didn't care if it was cold. It was; I could see my breath.

There was a crack, almost like a car backfiring, and a person appeared within range of me. Forty feet away, around the Three Broomsticks, to the right. Male. Elevated heartbeat. No firearms. A wizard with that characteristic miasma that Snape and Draco had.

He wasn't going into the tavern. He was using it as cover. Probably came to visit with me, I deduced.

I stood there and let him come. He didn't need to know that I was aware of his presence, or that his sneaking skills were atrocious.

Twenty feet away, well within striking distance for both of us.

Sure enough, he raised his wand, whispered "Crucio," and hurled the spell at me. Of course, it didn't do anything. I stood still, facing away from him, just to see if he'd try it again.

He did.

I turned around and smiled at him. He was wearing black: it looked like fetish gear executed in wool. What little I could see of his hair around his hood was matted, and the mask he was wearing hid his expression.

"Do I get to know who you are before this gets more interesting?" I asked. It never hurts to show interest.

My opponent hissed and cast another spell. He didn't hold back this time: Avada Kedavra. That was a mistake on his part.

I "died" and my body proceeded to do terrible things.

I returned to consciousness two minutes and forty-three seconds later — a minute and a half quicker than last time — crouched over the body of the Death Eater.

The wizard was dead, torn limb from limb and disemboweled. The noise, I suppose, had drawn a crowd, including quite a few Hogwarts students. I felt very bad about that, and quite embarrassed.

I stood up and looked at the gore on my hands. Grand, a piece of kidney stuck to my palm. It came off when I flapped my digits.

"Um." I said to the gathered crowd. "I don't think he realized that the stories are true. Sorry about the mess. Heh. Heh."

Cue weeping women. Signal the worried manly-men. Tell Chuck to vomit, wait, that was Seamus. Neville followed a close second.

It was pretty bad, but the worst part was how upset my Golden Trio was. They'd just witnessed me at my worst. Nothing can prepare you for seeing someone you know turn into a person-shaped, amoral murder machine that periodically eats part of his kill.

After a few minutes of silent standoff, another tavern keeper — not the one from the Three Broomsticks — approached me and waved his wand. I knew that movement. He'd cleaned me up. He gave me a tiny nod, then looked down at my handiwork. All that was left of the mask was bits of white here and there.

"Death Eater," he said, "Gregor Karnak. Escaped Azkaban by disappearing, and not seen for the last fifteen years."

"Oh. Any surviving family?" I asked.

"Yes. He was head of his household. Two children, looked after by his estranged wife. A decent bit of gold, if stories hold true." The big man scratched his gray beard. "There's right of conquest, you know. And his wand is yours, too. You bested him."

"Excuse me? Conquest."

"All that was his is yours if you claim it. You'll need his wand, and maybe his head, to do so. Gringotts handles the rest."

I felt a little sick to my stomach, and started walking in circles around the mess I'd made.

"Boy, are you going to piss on the corpse to show that you own it, or are you just feeling a moral conflict?" He's one perceptive tavern keeper.

I pointed at all the people who'd come out of their houses, shops and warm corners. "I'm upset that I interrupted their evenings. Worse, some of them saw what I did to this man."

That drew a rueful chuckle from the man who stood beside me. "They've seen more than you can imagine. Hogwarts is right up the way, you know. A day without magical madness is like a day without a good dump in the chamberpot."

"Still."

"Lad," he patted me on the back, "your notoriety begins here. Better get comfortable with it. Ask that young Harry Potter about dealing with legendary status. He knows a thing or three."

I nodded.

He continued, "Now get that head and wand. I'll find you a nice takeaway bag. Don't forget, the wand belongs to you now, regardless of what some may tell you. Oh, and take good care of the boy."

"I will."

Wand belongs to me? What use do I have for a wand? Toothpick?

A few minutes later, I had Karnak's wand in my pocket and a bag charmed against smell and putrefaction in my hand. I walked back over to my friends, and shrugged.

"I have no clue what to do now."

"I suppose you'll need to visit Gringotts," Harry said.

"Prob'ly ought to talk to Dumbledore, too." Ron nodded his head enthusiastically. "Though, he might've heard by now. Owls, you know."

"Owls and other students," Harry added. "I only see a handful of us about. A few must have run back to school."

Hermione had pointed questions. "What happened when he cast the Killing Curse? You went insane. Why did that happen? You said you were immune to them all."

"Let's walk and talk, okay?" Standing around in the middle of Hogsmeade with a head in a bag was quickly losing its charm.

When we were on the road back to school, I offered my take on what happened.

"When Dumbledore cast the killing curse at me, I found out that it causes people to die by shutting down the autonomic nervous system."

"Go on!" I couldn't tell if Hermione was interested, annoyed or something else.

"So, he used the curse on me, and my brain sort of died, but not quite. When I'm mortally injured, the machine part of me takes over while I heal. All it wants to do is keep me alive long enough to heal completely. Usually, that means going wild and killing everything dangerous." I fought over words to use, and Harry saved me by asking another question.

"But, if Professor Dumbledore tried it on you, and the same thing happened, why isn't he dead?"

"Deep down, I'm guessing I understood that Dumbledore wasn't dangerous, and didn't attack him."

"Good thing, mate. You would have been thrown in Azkaban for that."

"Ronald!" Hermione snarled.

I went on, half to myself, and half answering Hermione's questions. "When we tested the curse, I just stood there for four and a half minutes until my consciousness switched back on. Essentially, Hermione, I am immune. The killing curse doesn't kill me; I come back."

Harry took off his glasses and wiped them on his sleeve.

"So, the curse DOES kill your brain, but you get restarted. You do have a vulnerability of a kind," Harry observed.

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

I nodded. "My brain was off significantly less time than before. I didn't want to test the killing curse more than once, in case that other part of me decided Dumbledore was dangerous. But with other spells that affected me, we noticed an adaptation to them. If I'm hit with them multiple times, my enhancements learn how to minimize the damage and heal faster."

"That's fascinating!" Hermione's eyes were bright. I recognized that look. "We saw it all." I could hear the excitement in her voice. "You let out this inhuman howl, tore his wand arm off, threw him to the ground and pulled out his insides. Then you pulled off his other limbs."

"And then you ate somma his bits. Never seen anything like that, and we've seen a quite a bit," commented Ron. "That's going to get around real quick."

"I think we'll see more Death Eaters soon. They're not going to believe what happened, and they'll want revenge." Harry put his glasses back on and seemed to get lost in watching the scenery.

"Like I said, Harry, that's part of what we're counting on."

"Wait," Hermione got in front of me and raised a finger. "Did the Headmaster try Bombarda or Reducto, as well? Did you blow up?"

"Not as such, no. Thrown around, yes. Got some holes that healed rather fast, yes. Complete explosion into gobs, no."

"Blimey," whispered Ron.

We walked the rest of the mile in silence. Hagrid met us at the main gate.

"Well, Mister Stewart! Yeh don' do anything small like, d'yeh!" I got the hint of a wide smile under that gigantic beard. "Would've liked to see that for sure. Come on, all of yeh go in for dinner. I think yer the last ones in."

I didn't really feel like food...I'd had a snack earlier.

"Don't yeh fret, Frank. He was a bad man and deserved at least as much as yeh gave 'im. Dumbledore says we're ta go ta Gringotts and settle the affairs. Never been, have yeh?"

"No."

"Well, it's quite something to see. Model of efficiency and all."

Hagrid slapped me on the shoulder and I went rolling through the gates. He loved that I took his affection with a roll rather than just collapsing.

"Haha!" Hagrid crowed. "Get yerselves to the hall. I'll be along presen'ly."

Thusly encouraged, we went.

Everyone was already seated when we arrived. Silence spread through the room the moment Harry, who was in the lead, opened the doors. They knew I was nearby, even if they didn't see me right away.

We walked across to the Gryffindor table, and Dumbledore called out to me before I had the chance to sit down.

"Quite an eventful afternoon, Mister Stewart."

"Indeed, Professor."

"You're well, I assume."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." I bowed my head, suddenly uneasy about being recognized that way. "By the by, does news always travel this fast around here?"

"Oh yes! People do talk when something unusual happens." Dumbledore shooed me. "Do sit, young man! The roast is succulent tonight."

I mumbled "Thank you," and sat down...Beside Ginny Weasley of all people. She scooted away from me slightly, and I didn't blame her in the least. Cute blush though.

"I heard it was awful," Dean whispered. He'd come back before the show. "Was it?"

"Yeah," Ron said with a nod.

"Everyone, I don't mean to be rude, but could we change the subject. I still feel a little strange about showing myself at my worst this way."

I was rewarded by their instant understanding. Conversation rapidly turned to Quidditch and the latest models of brooms.

Hermione, on the other side of the table, ran her bare foot up my pants leg. I knew she'd sneak into my room later and ride me into the sunset. I like her very much, but the girl is voracious.

-**HPDEB**-

From the Special Evening Edition of the _Daily Prophet_

 **Death in Hogsmeade!**

 _By Thomas Buchanan_

Lord Gregor Karnak, wanted Death Eater, was killed on the main street of Hogsmeade before many witnesses this afternoon. Onlookers reported that Karnak apparated, in full Death Eater costume, near the Three Broomsticks and was confronted by Harry Potter's bodyguard — the Immune Muggle — Frank Stewart. The men exchanged words, whereupon Karnak used the Killing Curse against him.

According to locals, Stewart did not die, but uttered an inhuman howl and lunged towards Lord Karnak.

"I've heard many yowls in my day," said Yancy Borogrove, gardener, "but that, the cry of the Immune Muggle, made my (expletive deleted) turn to water."

According to the onlookers, the man tore Karnak's limbs off, ripped open his abdomen, and appeared to eat one of Karnak's kidneys.

"I been cuttin' up hogs all my workin' days, and that were sure a kidney," remarked Barney Glubbins, butcher's apprentice. "Funny thing were how he came back to himself after."

Local residents say Stewart returned to normal when Karnak was dead, and appeared to be quite taken aback by what he'd done.

The proprietor of the Hogshead tavern was reached for comment, he told this reporter, "The lad was quite abashed, and apologized to everybody. 'I don't think he realized that the story is true. Sorry 'bout the mess. Hah. Hah,' he said."

We asked the innkeeper what story the man referred to.

"There was a rumor down from Hogwarts that there was a Muggle who swore himself to Harry Potter's protection. They said he had a black right arm — which he does — and that he's immune to magic. Seems to be the case, since the Killing Curse didn't kill him. Didn't you hear about that?"

At the end of our interview with the owner of the Hogshead, were were told that the man with a black arm will be claiming right of conquest — almost unheard of in modern times.

The _Daily Prophet_ attempted to reach Headmaster Dumbledore for comments, and were told only this: "Oh, I expect you'll hear more of him in the near future."

Who is this mysterious Immune Muggle? Where did he come from? What of his black arm? Is he a vigilante with a taste for Death Eaters, or a risk to the entire wizarding world?

-**HPDEB**-

At the Malfoy Estate, all the furniture in Lord Voldemort's favorite sitting room fell victim to his rage. The _Daily Prophet_ was crunched up in his shaking fist.

"Lucius! What is the meaning of this?" Voldemort screamed. "Who is this Frank Stewart?"

Malfoy stood in the doorway and quietly studied every avenue of escape, including where he might apparate to if the Dark Lord's wrath fell on his shoulders.

"Lord, this is the Muggle my son spoke of."

"Send Lady Swift to Karnak Manor! She will take exception to the execution of her lover. She will kill him in her rage, Curse or no."

Nagini lunged at Lucius, who narrowly avoided being knocked backward by the snake's gigantic head.

Voldemort turned on Malfoy, red eyes burning like the flames of Hell. "Tell your son that I require daily updates on Harry Potter and this bodyguard. Details! I want miniscule details!"

"Tell Snape as well, Lucius. I will have him kill this Muggle if my Death Eaters fail."

"As you wish, Lord." Malfoy bowed and tried to slip away.

"And Lucius, if Snape fails, you will follow him. If you fail me, you know I will do things that will torment your ghost for all eternity."

"My Lord." Malfoy hurried away on his errands.


	17. Chapter 17

On Sunday, Harry caught up with me ahead of the breakfast rush. I'd developed a habit of being in the Great Hall before everyone arrives, or twenty minutes late...Maybe it wasn't habit at all. A preference?

Either way, Harry sat down across from me at the table. Something was on his mind, something uncomfortable. I could smell it.

"Is it awful?" he asked.

"What?"

"Dying and coming back?"

"Oh, that." I drank some coffee. "The Killing Curse is different than what usually happens. Normally, I see and feel everything my body does to defend itself when I'm 'indisposed', but I have no control over it."

"That's horrible!"

"Yeah. With the curse, my consciousness is shut off, and I don't know what's happened until it turns back on. I guess that's as close to death as I've been."

Harry reached for a glass and asked for pumpkin juice.

"I've nearly died many times," his voice was just above a whisper, "and I've been scared every time. Almost dying hurts, too."

"Yes, it does."

"You don't get used to it?"

"No, Harry, you don't. At least, I haven't. I'm not used to killing human beings in cold blood, either. War with zombies is one thing, but totally outclassing a human opponent is another."

"I'm not sure I understand." Harry shook his head and adjusted his glasses.

"I really hope you never do." I sipped my coffee. "There's a lot more on your mind, isn't there?"

He laughed. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Oh, my friend, you don't want me to answer that." I had to smile.

"Well...well...I want to know more about you and the things you've seen and done. Hermione spends so much time with you, and I feel she knows you better. But you're my defender, so I should know you even better than she does. Don't you think so?"

I wanted to applaud. Harry was standing up for his needs and wants, and it pleased me to death to see that happening.

"You've got a good point, Mr. Potter! I should get to know you better as well. Let's carve out time for us, just you and me, starting today." I tapped the cup on the table, and I heard some sort of echo in the hall.

"Sounds like Hogwarts thinks it's a good idea!" Harry smiled, and all his native perkiness returned.

Good timing, because breakfast rush began.

"This afternoon, then? After Quidditch practice?"

"Yes! That would be excellent!" Harry was all smiles, and stayed that way for quite some time.

** - HPDEB - **

Draco did his absolute best to note down anything he saw that involved Potter and his apparent protector. He extended his exertions to include any suspicious movements of any member of Gryffindor. One never knew who else might be in on the madness.

"Did you hear the rumor?" Draco heard Pansy ask.

"Which one?" Daphne replied.

"That little Miss Perfect has taken a lover." Pansy's voice dripped with loathing. Draco approved.

"You must be joking, Pansy! No one would want to touch a Mudblood like her, much less a bitchy little know-it-all!"

Daphne looked a little green when Draco set his eyes on her. It upset his stomach as well, to think that Granger could even attract someone, much less convince that person to...do things with her.

Millicent giggled. "They say it's the Muggle she took to bed!"

"Oh, stop, Millicent! One more word and I won't be able to stomach breakfast!" Pansy shuddered.

"It's awful, terribly awful!" Daphne wailed. "What is our noble school coming to when you have a Muggle for a guest, much less one who shags students?"

Millicent noshed on a sausage and suggested, "Perhaps we could write a little letter," while she chewed.

"To whom?" Pansy asked, grimacing at Millie's manners.

"The _Daily Prophet_ of course! That could bring a whole slew of complaints."

"The sooner Stewart is removed from here, the better," Draco snarled. "If Granger gets expelled at the same time, so much the better. They deserve one another."

"While I find all of this as loathsome as you, remember, that man is dangerous." Blaise tried to remind them.

"Oh, just sit there and look pretty, Blaise." Daphne waved him away. "He can't possibly be all he says he is."

Crabbe scratched his head. "Well, I couldn't turn him into anythin' like Draco wanted me to."

"Aye, and ye pissed yerself, too!" Goyle laughed.

"He went all spikes and scary noises! You'da pissed too!"

"All of you, shut up and watch them," Draco ordered. "Tell me everything, even if you must write it down. I will put a stop to all of this disgusting behavior! My father will bring it to the Ministry, and things will be set aright."

** - HPDEB - **

I heard them, the Slytherins, and I smiled.

"Oh, what's happenin' now?" Dean asked. Apparently, he saw the smile first. "Somebody's gonna get it, aren't they?"

Hermione turned my face towards her and she whispered, so low that on I could hear. "Don't kill anyone. Please."

I ruffled her hair and stood up.

When I turned towards the Slytherin tables, Snape stood up from his seat at the head table. We locked eyes for about six seconds before he sat back down. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, as if thinking "Oh, this is going to be good!"

I walked down the center aisle, turned on my heel, and strode up the other side until I was standing right behind Crabbe. All the Slytherins were sitting up straighter than a convention of chiropractors.

"Crabbe, that's your name, right?" I asked the boy.

"Yes...you...uh...horrible Muggle...uh."

"Get up from your seat and go stand against the wall, or piss will be the least of your worries." It was a good non-specific threat, and he certainly did as he was told.

I sat down in the vacant space, right beside Draco and his other cronie.

"Morning, young Malfoy."

"How dare you terrorize my classmate and violate our noble…"

"Bench? Violate your noble bench. Is that what you were going to say, youngster?" I stared down at him and saw the blood shooting through his veins. Pity I'm not a vampire, the kid would have been a blond geyser.

"Our noble place of feasting!"

"Good save, Pookie. Now shut the fuck up before I find an interesting way to shut you up. Am I clear?"

"My father…"

"...will hear of this. I know. I still haven't met him yet, and that's a shame." I turned to the girls, huddled together on the opposite side of the table.

I caught Blaise moving, grabbed a fork, did a little math, and tossed the utensil skyward. The fork came down and pinned the boy's wand to the table.

"A fork in the morning wood can ruin a boy's day, Blaise. Stay still so I don't notice you."

I'd never taken my eyes off the girls, and they completely understood the depth of the shit they were in.

"Ladies, we've never spoken before, but I have the distinct impression that you know me already. That's convenient, because I already know who you are, too." I nodded to each of them. "Did I overhear everything you were saying about Hermione and me? Yes, I did. That's why I've come for a visit."

Their faces were ash-white. Good. That's exactly what I wanted.

"How good is my hearing, you may well wonder." I pointed down the tables towards the huge doors. "That first year boy with brown hair at the end of the row. See him?"

They nodded.

"His heart is currently beating at 72 beats per minute. He chews predominantly on the left side of his mouth. He just farted, but it was a tiny one. Silent, but deadly."

Sure enough, the children near the kid reacted. The Slytherin girls made terrified "eep" noises.

"So, here it is in a nutshell, be nice to Hermione and keep your dirty rumors to yourselves. If she takes a lover or not, it isn't any of your business. It never hurts to be nice." I smiled, injecting it with every milligram of charm I have.

"You...you can't threaten us! The professors wouldn't let you harm us. Our families would bring this school down and you with it." Daphne exuded blue blood pride.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." I nodded and folded my arms, bumping Draco in the process. "We can leave it at that, but I'd like to give you a bit of advice. You know, from an older guy to a young woman in the bloom of her youth."

Daphne scowled at me.

"Daphne, here's your advice: don't masturbate with your wand. Splinters in your bits can be horribly painful."

Her jaw fell open. I could have shoved my hand into her face and had room to spare.

Next. "Millicent, waxing is a great way to get rid of stubborn nipple hairs."

Her hands flew to her beasts and landed with the sound of slapping pillows.

"Pansy," I said, "I'm sure there's a charm to reduce the size of the leaves around your bud, m'dear."

She turned all kinds of fun colors.

I stood up, pointed at Crabbe, and told him to sit back down. Then I walked back to Gryffindor and took my customary seat.

"Frank, what did you do over there?"

"Oh, I just told them the truth, Ron. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less."

** - HPDEB - **

Harry wrapped up Quidditch practice a little early, eager to have a chance to speak to Frank some more. A quick pep talk for the team, an even faster shower, and he was joining Frank on the bleachers.

"That was some impressive flying."

Harry grinned. "I love flying. It's the best thing there is. And I'm good at it. Everyone says so. I've even been told I could probably play for England if I wanted to. Dunno if I will, though. I've got enough fame already. But still, it's nice having something I can do easily."

Harry suddenly looked a little chagrined, as though he'd said too much. Frank had a feeling he should let it slide, but this was supposed to be about getting to know each other better.

"Do thing not usually come easily for you?"

"Well, not like they do for Hermione. Defense is alright. The practical portions anyway. I've never been too good with theory. The essays are a nightmare. I dunno where Hermione learned to write like she does."

"You went to primary school, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I had to make sure not to get better grades than my cousin. So I never put it much effort." Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Don't tell Ron and Hermione. I've never told them much about my life growing up."

"I won't tell them anything you don't want me to. I didn't have the best childhood either." Harry gave Frank a rather surprised look, and Frank knew, immediately, he had a foot in the door.

What followed was a long discussion of their lives growing up. Harry told about his cupboard, chores, punishments, education, and the day his Hogwarts letter arrived and changed everything. Frank told him about how his parents were (at the very least) verbally abusive, and that he'd spent most of his adult life wandering after leaving university. Harry continued with how life had been at Hogwarts. Life or death adventures. Dealing with students and their fickle attitude toward his fame. Struggling with some classes and professors while excelling in Defense and Quidditch.

"I reckoned I wanted to be an Auror, a magical policeman, but I dunno that I want to chase dark wizards all my life. I've already had enough of it. Quidditch could be fun, but it wouldn't last forever, and what do I do then?"

"Harry, you've got a year and a half to decide. And, once you defeat Voldemort, you could play Quidditch for a while you figure out what you want to do."

He knew almost instantly he'd said the wrong thing. "You're assuming I'll defeat him. What if I don't? What if I've only got a few months, or a few years, left? I can't avoid it, fighting him is literally my destiny. And if I do defeat him, I'll be a killer. What if I just keep killing?"

** - HPDEB - **

"Have you seen Frank or Harry?" Hermione asked Luna when they passed one another in the hall.

"Not since lunch. Why?" Luna blinked at her and cocked her head.

"I was just wondering." Hermione started to fidget.

"I think I saw a bunch of Teksies flittering around a little while ago. They might be outside."

"Oh! Luna, you're brilliant! Quidditch practice was earlier." Hermione clapped her hands. "I bet they're still out there, trying to explain the game to him."

"I like being brilliant."

Luna noticed that her words went unheard. Hermione was already quite a way down the hall, likely running towards the doors.

"I suppose I would run, too," she said, and walked off alone.

** - HPDEB - **

She saw them, Frank and Harry, sitting in the bleachers, as she ran. It looked like Frank had his arm around Harry's shoulders. Hermione stopped in her tracks, aware that she might be running the risk of interrupting something private.

Well, she'd been hoping that they'd get to know one another better. It didn't make her feel any less disappointed, she very much wanted to be wherever Frank was.

Her heart leapt a little when Frank's other arm went up and waved her over. It didn't matter why he wanted her there, she just ran.

** - HPDEB - **

"Hey," I said when Hermione arrived, and pointed to the other side of Harry. She got the hint and sat down beside him.

"Hello, Harry," she said, and put her arm over mine. "Did you have a good practice?"

"It was fine." His voice was dull. "Did Frank call you over?"

"Yes. Are you okay?"

"Well, we've been talking, and I realized that I'm scared about my future." My charge looked up at his old friend. "We've talked about it."

"You're still upset, aren't you?" Good question. Points to Curly.

"Yeah."

"That's why I waved you over when I knew you were near," I told her. "I think my friend Harry needs a little more support from someone a bit more familiar. You're surprisingly good at comforting people, Hermione."

She blushed. She always does when I praise her.

"I'm sure Frank told you everything would turn out well." She gave Harry's shoulders a little shake. "I know everything will be fine, too."

"Hermione, do you know how close good and evil are?" Harry asked her. "They're as close as a decision. Yes. No. That's all it takes. With everything I have to do, I'm afraid I won't make the right decisions."

"You're an intrinsically good person Harry James Potter. Your heart is in the right place, and you care about people, even people you've never met. That's special."

Hermione Granger has a way with words. I smiled.

"But what if I don't one day?"

"That's why we keep our friends, the ones we really love, close to us." I hugged him a little closer. "They'll tell us the truth and keep us on the path we want to be on."

When Harry turned to look at me, my stomach nearly dropped out. I've seen that facial expression in a mirror more than once: aching exhaustion, a sliver of despair, and bitter fear.

"Will you do that for me, too, for as long as you stay?"

There was only one way I could answer, and that was with my heart. "I promise you, Harry James Potter, that I will help you be the good man you are. I will question your decisions and slap you around like Ron when you make ones I don't agree with."

He gave me a wan smile.

"You won't terrorize me like you do Ron, will you?" Harry asked.

"Only if you want me to." I smiled back. "You already know what it feels like when Hermione slaps you around. I won't be any worse than that."

"Blimey!" Harry sat up straight, suddenly reanimated. "You're a cruel taskmaster!"

"Oh, you!" Hermione bumped him hard. "I'm hard on you because I care about you so much...and you're thick-headed."

Harry started laughing and the mood lightened up by 300%.

"You know," he said to us, "I've got a sudden urge to study for Potions and have a cup of tea. Want to come along?"

Hermione shook her head. "I was talking a walk to clear my head when I saw the two of you. I think I'll keep at it for a while. Is that okay?"

"Of course! And, Frank, you don't need to study." He grinned. "Wish I were you. Will I see the two of you at dinner?"

"Absolutely," I told him, and ruffled his hair, which got another laugh out of him.

"Ta, then!"

My personal Harry Potter, wizard, and target for bad guys, got up and set off for Hogwarts.

Hermione and I just sat there for a minute.

"I wish he'd be that vigilant about his school work all the time. He needs all the help he can get. Will he be alright?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Harry and I will be spending more time together. He needs different opinions from someone outside his normal world."

"Wise ones, I hope."

"I try." I looked up at the Scottish afternoon sky. "I'm going to try very, very hard."

** - HPDEB - **

Hermione reached out and took his hand. It felt like a good time to be honest with him. She'd planned to speak with him earlier, but couldn't find him.

Now that they were together, sitting in the empty stadium, everything was just fine.

"Sir," she said, "I'd like to ask for something. Is that okay?"

"Always!" He smiled at her.

"Would you...heavens, this is difficult...would you make love to me like I'm fragile? Touch me gently, and things like that."

"Yes."

She sighed and laughed at herself. Frank was so attentive and kind to her. Other girls would be so jealous!

"Are you ever going to tell me no?"

He scratched his head. "I can't say, but I'd be surprised."

She hugged him for all she was worth, and whispered, "It's dark under the stadium, and I feel very delicate all of a sudden."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Chapter 17 didn't get moved to our "Posted" folder last week, so, thinking it was the next to be posted, I went in and made some changes that I rather liked. They don't make any enormous difference to the story, but you may want to go back and re-read Chapter 17, as I've updated it to include my changes.**

* * *

I met Hagrid in the courtyard the next morning. It was slightly overcast, and a little chilly. For Scotland though, it was a grand morning. No cold rain after all!

I made a conscious decision to go Muggle. I was wearing my black shirt, pants, socks and combat boots, all cleaned and mended compliments of Pippy. The little guy was incredibly useful. The Man Scythe was strapped across my back for easy access. During the night, before Hermione appeared at my door again, I'd considered bringing another weapon or two on the Gringotts field trip, but then...well...Hermione arrived and most of my higher cognitive functions took a vacation.

"Good morning, Frank!" Hagrid called out. "Are yeh ready for yer first trip ta Diagon Alley?"

"I suppose so. How are we going to get there?"

I looked up at the enormous man, it was all you could do unless you wanted to eyeball his belt buckle. Somewhere behind that beard, Hagrid might be smiling, but it was equally likely that an entire tribe of magical creatures had set up a sophisticated society within the hair.

"Dumbledore suggested a Portkey, ta keep things simple. I'd wanted ta take yeh for a ride on my motorbike, but he thought it might be a bi' much after breakfast."

"You won't hear me arguing." The thought of clinging to Hagrid's back, with my ass streaming in the air, as we rocketed through the woods, didn't fill me with confidence. "What do I do?"

"Jus' hold my coat," Captain Gigantic rumbled, "and we'll go. Oh, remember, the more polite yeh are to a Goblin, the more polite he'll be to yeh."

I put my hand on the unfamiliar leather and tried to speak.

"Gob…"

The Portkey turned the universe inside out.

"...lins?" Thankfully this time I didn't suffer as badly as the last Portkey. I managed to stay standing, and it only took 53 seconds for my head to stop spinning. Perhaps it was because I was only travelling through space.

"Aye, Goblins. They run Gringotts, y'see. Come on. It's this way."

We were standing in what must be Diagon Alley, a frightful menagerie, really. There were smells, street vendors, bizarre things for sale—looked like a "dare you to eat it" reality TV show—and everyone in robes.

When I looked beyond street level, I knew for a fact that I wasn't in someone's dream version of an exotic street market. No one who hadn't been here could imagine this. The buildings made me wince. Their owners created acid-trip architectural hallucinations, often sporting paint colors that only Tim Burton would groove on.

"You remind me of the babe," I whispered as they walked by an Escher-like staircase that defied perspective. "What babe? The babe with the power of voodoo."

"What'd ya say, Frank?" Hagrid bellowed.

"Nothing! Just keep going. I don't want the houses to eat me alive."

Everyone cleared the way for Hagrid, and there were quite a few people around. Monday morning, going to work, and so on, I guessed. Many of those individuals expected to close up the area behind Hagrid as he passed by, but they got one look at me (hidden by the groundskeeper's bulk) and took several steps back.

I could hear the whispers.

"He has a black arm!"

"The bodyguard."

"The Immune Muggle!"

"The Muggle demon!"

"The Black-Armed Man."

"The Immune Muggle."

Sounds like I'm making a name for myself already.

One of these days, I'll have a word or two with the reporters at the _Daily Prophet_. Their little Karnak article made me wince.

-**HPDEB**-

Hagrid noticed that his companion was aware of the talk. "Don' let it worry yeh. They did the same thing...Well, they do the same thing every time Harry is about. He's a legend, and yer a legend attached to a legend. Goin' ta generate a bi' o' conversation."

"Better than offers of marriage," Frank sighed.

"Hahahaha! Tha's a grand one!"

Hagrid reached around and pulled Frank up beside him. They'd stopped in front of a door. Like so many of the things he'd seen since arriving at Hogwarts, the building in front of him screamed "Venerable British Institution: We Still Wear Bowler Hats and Bowties."

They opened the doors and went inside. Everything stopped. Or rather, all the clients stopped. The Goblin bank tellers started paying very close attention.

"Oh, go about yer business!" Hagrid rumbled. "Everyone's got ta visi' a bank sometime."

-**HPDEB**-

I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I had a distinct desire to rub my eyes and pinch myself. There were angry-looking midgets at the desks. They had bat-like ears, beak noses, and beady eyes. One of them smiled, or grimaced, hard to tell. All his teeth had been filed to points.

"Hagrid, no one would ever try to rob these people."

"Well, summat did in August o' '91. Din' get caught. Made the Goblins angry summat fierce."

A goblin approached us, and adjusted his bow tie. "Rubeus Hagrid, and the infamous Frank Stewart, The Immune Muggle. I am Slothbaugh. How may we be of service today?"

"Well, Master Slothbaugh, we have a matter o' right o' conquest. I also suspect that Mister Stewart here would like ta open an account."

The little monster rubbed his hands together. "One doesn't see conquest issues very often these days. How refreshing! Come with me to my desk."

We followed Slothbaugh to an office with a low desk. Hagrid stood. I sat.

"To complete the paperwork," the banker said, "I will need the wand and the head of the deceased."

Hagrid pulled the bag out of his coat and dropped it on the desk.

Slothbaugh opened it, visibly excited.

The horrible little being sighed when he pulled out the head.

"Gregor Karnak. Goodness me. That's a face I've not seen in many years." Slothbaugh turned the head this way and that, even upside down to peer at the stump. "Sir, this is a sublime decapitation. Truly. So very clean."

I tried to smile but it didn't quite come together properly. Goblins, it seemed, bothered me immensely. Perhaps the bloodlust?

"Ah, I see the wand. Yes, this is it. You see, Mister Stewart, I have an encyclopedic knowledge of wands. I can match Ollivander from his first sale until the present day."

"He's not kiddin' this one," Hagrid said, indicating the seated Goblin. "I watched him and Ollivander arguin' one night. Amazin' thing it was."

"Oh," I breathed, "astounding." The magical community had quite odd ideas about entertainment.

Slothbaugh rang an oddly shaped bell, and spoke to the Goblin who appeared in a harsh, guttural language, then busied himself with the drawers in his desk until he found the proper papers. Gregor's head sat on the desk and seemed to regard me with pure hatred. Hagrid must have noticed, as he turned it to face in another direction.

The second Goblin returned shortly and handed Slothbaugh a folder with a bow.

"Here we are! Gregor Karnak was head of house Karnak, he had one wife whom he divorced, and two children from that union. No other surviving relations." Slothbaugh smiled unpleasantly. "The divorce settlement was a lump sum, so you owe her and her children nothing. His ancestral estate and remaining financial resources now belong to you." He pushed a few sheets of parchment and a quill pen at me. "Sign here, Lord Karnak. Oh, and there is a five thousand galleon price on his head as well."

I signed the papers in a daze, scratching it slightly with the quill, and barely noticed when a bloody thumbprint was required to cap the deal. I just sliced my left thumb with my right index finger and plopped it down on the parchment.

"So, the black arm changes shape," Slothbaugh whispered. "If you ever want to sell it, I would be honored to make an offer."

That snapped me back to attention. "It doesn't come off, but I appreciate the compliment, Sir."

"Very well. I will have an associate escort you to the Karnak vault, and I will attend to settling ownership issues while you are occupied."

"You're very gracious, and I appreciate your attention to the details." I bowed from the neck, which seemed to please the banker greatly.

Slothbaugh rang a different oddly shaped bell, then slipped away, and within minutes, another awful Goblin came to fetch us.

"Would you come this way Lord Karnak. Vault 903 awaits your inspection."

I didn't know what to expect, but a horrible roller coaster ride through dank caverns is something I never would have imagined. The entire ride made me want to toss my breakfast. Did the Goblins invent this just to make the magicals uneasy? Hagrid didn't seem to enjoy the ride, either.

When I arrived at the massive iron door, our ghastly concierge opened it for us, then handed me the key. "Working keys cannot be created outside of Gringotts. Should you ever lose this key, come to Gringotts immediately. The inherent magic in the key allows us to recall it for you with a drop of blood."

I nodded to show I had heard, then stepped inside, and tried not to stare. There were piles of gold coins, antique furniture, what appeared to be gold candlesticks and vases, and some hideous family portraits.

"His fortune was drastically reduced by the parting with his wife," the nameless goblin explained. "However, our records indicate that twenty thousand Galleons remain, and the accumulated value of everything (aside from the portraits) is another fifteen. There are likely some wizarding items as well, but the records on those were purposely kept vague by the previous Lord Karnak."

"Frank, what were that noise? Did you gulp loudly?" Hagrid asked.

"Yes."

"What funds would Lord Karnak like to withdraw from the account today?"

"Hagrid, how much do I need to live comfortably for a month or so?" This really was making me realize how little I knew about magical society.

"Yeh could live like a king with five hundred, give or take. Me? I get by on much less."

Something in my mind kicked into high gear. I stood up straighter, and looked down at the bank's representative, making sure not to appear pompous. I was fairly certain the smile on my face was worthy of a Goblin.

"Please have two thousand Galleons waiting for me when we arrive upstairs. Would you be able to liquidate the furniture and similar items?"

"Yes. We charge fifteen percent of the proceeds."

"Fifteen percent? Make it ten. I have a feeling you'll still be making quite the profit."

The Goblin smiled at me. "I can perhaps do thirteen percent."

I sidled up to him, and leaned down. "Does it serve you best to take gratuities here, or would you prefer something more official?"

"It matters not, Lord Karnak. A Goblin's overall wealth increases his standing in our society. How said wealth was obtained makes no difference." He smiled.

I picked up a solid gold candlestick and held it out to him. "I know the value of gold right now. Make it ten."

The smile got wider. "Very well, Lord Karnak. Ten it is." And his voice was kinder.

I waved my hand imperiously and told the financial monster to "Make it so."

Then I realized that I had another pertinent question

"And can you exchange Galleons to pounds?"

"Indeed, Lord Karnak, the current rate is 15 pounds to one Galleon."

I nodded and then I strode back to the nausea inducing tram.

-**HPDEB**-

"Either he adjusts quickly or he's so far out of his element that he has no idea what to do."

"Mister Goblin, I'd wager it's the second," Hagrid whispered.

-**HPDEB**-

I turned around, and called out to the evil little banking turd, "Can Gringotts provide Muggle-style identification materials? Drivers license? Birth certificate? Passport?"

"Yes, we are often called upon to provide this service. The bank charges seventy galleons for such a thing."

Hagrid hissed. "Tha's highway robbery, tha' is!"

The Goblin shrugged. "It is a premium service, Mister Hagrid."

I walked back to the little Goblin, my mind was cranking away at full speed.

"What is your name, Mr. Goblin?"

"I am Griphook."

"Very well, Griphook. Premium service or not, seventy Galleons seems incredibly high. If I can live like a king on 500, I'm thinking this should cost no more than 10."

"You must keep in mind, Lord Karnak, that these are all forgeries that must be integrated into the Muggle systems. I can perhaps see my way to 60 Galleons."

I didn't realize they were that legit. "50 Galleons."

"55."

"Acceptable. How good is your memory, Griphook?" I asked.

"Perfect."

"Grand. Now remember this, and produce the identification materials based on the following information. Ready?"

"Please go on."

I dropped a ton of information, down to my fake birth weight, on Griphook's head. He didn't even take notes, and I didn't need to fake being impressed. After I finished, he explained that the work would be completed within the hour if I cared to wait. It appeared that they offered tea, biscuits and such for their preferred customers.

"That would be lovely. Your service is superb, and I am grateful for your assistance. I'd also like a complete inventory of my vault. None of this "keeping it vague" silliness."

"Gladly, Lord Karnak. I must inform you that any items classified as "Dark" by the Ministry of Magic must be reported, and will likely be confiscated."

"And how much will it cost me to be notified before such items are reported?"

"You are quite astute, Lord Karnak. I suppose, seeing as you have claimed this vault, it would only make sense to inform you of everything in it before alerting any necessary authorities. We will be required to make our report within ten days, but if the items were no longer in the vault, we would not need to report it."

"And would you know of a market for such items should any be found?"

"Gringotts knows all markets."

"Excellent. Griphook, I offer you my trust. Select any artifact from the vault as an additional reward for excellent service. I place a high value on being treated well."

"Thank you, Lord Karnak." He bowed to me, then chose a silly little ring. It didn't even have a gem.

"Are you quite certain?"

"Indeed. This is Goblin forged gold and platinum. Although wizards would never know, it was made by one of the best smiths known to Goblin-kind."

"Very well." Something occurred to me, and I had to ask. "Griphook, does Goblin culture place great value upon reclaiming items made by great craftspeople?"

For a moment, Griphook seemed very surprised, almost shocked.

"It is our belief that those who acquire our works of art rent them, rather than possess for eternity. We would, if we were able, reacquire all that was ever 'purchased' and subsequently inherited by humans."

I nodded, because I understood that notion, and I saw a tangible way to create social credibility with the Goblins...that is, if having someone share their point of view had any meaning.

Shortly after I finished that thought, we boarded the nasty pod, and I scooted sideways to allow my bulky companion a seat.

"Why didya get all the Muggle things?" Hagrid asked me once we were back on solid ground.

"Because _burp_ , at some point, I'll need to visit the real world...excuse me _burp_...the Muggle world. I don't carry identification where I come from, and I can't be a mystery man if something happens in 1996. This is part of a very important time in Muggle history involving how information is stored and used."

We were led back to Slothbaugh's office and I was presented with all of the official papers relating to the right of conquest, Karnak's wand, as well as a lordship ring and a key to the manor. I decided not to wear the ring, but I kept it with me, as it also served as a portkey to the manor.

"Lord Karnak, you will also need a Floo address for your home, unless you would like to keep the current one" Slothbaugh held up a gnarled finger. "We can record a new one here, in complete security, so that none but your chosen intimates may arrive in this manner. We will be happy to register it with the Ministry of Magic for a nominal fee of two galleons."

"Floo?" I looked around at Griphook, Hagrid, and the senior banker. "I have no idea what that is."

"Lord Karnak has not been well informed by his hosts." Griphook coughed. "Floo is a magical means of travel. One throws floo powder into a fireplace, utters the address of his chosen destination, steps in, and emerges through a fireplace at the destination."

I didn't like the sound of that and promptly said so.

"Oh, lad, it's completely safe! Quite the convenience, if you ask me. No' tha' I can use it much at my size. But even Dumbledore's got an address for his office fireplace." Hagrid said with a reassuring pat on my shoulder.

"Fine, fine. What do I do to make this happen?" You can imagine how excited this made me.

My banker of dubious intent pulled a tiny bag out of his frock coat and told me to whisper my chosen word or phrase into it. I took the bag from him, all the while staring at him like he was the Mad Hatter.

I put my lips to the bag and said, "Donne House," and handed it back to him.

"Excellent, Lord Karnak! If you will give us a little time, we will prepare everything you will need to enjoy your new status."

The Goblin strolled away, leaving Hagrid and me to avail ourselves of tea and shortbread.

"Damn it. I need a massage." I grumbled to no one in particular.

Hagrid cracked his knuckles. "D'yeh prefer Swedish or sumpin' else?"

"I appreciate the thought," I smiled despite my abject terror of a gigantic masseuse, "but I'll be okay."

An hour and thirty minutes later, I had a complimentary bottomless bag—with a featherweight charm—packed with galleons, the papers I'd been given, and falsified documents. The damned thing weighed nothing at all.

"Big guy, I owe you a meal and a night full of beer for all your help," I said to Hagrid, once we were outside the bank. "Could I prevail on you for a little bit more time? I need clothes."

"Oh, Dumbledore specifically tol' me ta help yeh shop for robes. Maybe basic black."

I nodded, not sure why the Big Dore would want that. I chalked it up to his judgement.

"By the by, Frank," the enormous fellow added, "thank yeh for takin' care o' the boy. I've known him since he were a baby, and I been worried, no lie."

Hearing Hagrid say that made me smile.

"You're welcome."

-**HPDEB**-

Shopping took a bit longer than they expected.

"I haven't bought clothes for years," said Frank, "and I never liked doing it then."

"Times do change yeh know." Hagrid shrugged, dislodging the pigeons on his shoulders. "Yeh do look quite flash in them robes."

Hagrid's companion looked down at himself through the round-rim sunglasses he'd purchased.

"I suppose. This is what I get for being a fan of 'The Matrix'."

"Wha's that?"

"Oh, a movie that hasn't been made yet. The good guy wears a black outfit that looks something like this." Frank pointed out the length of the over-robe and the fitted sleeves.

"I've never seen one 'o them. Heard quite a bit from James and Lily, Harry's parents, and Hermione, but never seen one."

Frank looked up at him. "My friend, this is a deficit that you and I will rectify. Say, are you hungry? I could murder some fish and chips."

"Oh definit'ly could do tha' meself. The Leaky Cauldron is just up the way, a fine slab o' cod and a nice pint of 80 Shilling."

"Hagrid, did you say 80 Shilling?" Frank grinned like a shark.

"Yeh."

"Lead on MacDuff, and damned be he who first cries 'Hold! Enough!'," Frank pointed triumphantly to the skies. "And I'm paying. No argument."

"No, Lord Karnak! Perish the thought!" The huge man laughed, and escorted Hogwarts' guest to his favorite pub.


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning, a large envelope arrived for me. The damned package nearly knocked over my coffee. I wouldn't have been able to forgive the owl had that happened. My Gryffindor chums did not need to see me in a full-on spilled coffee rage.

My name, Francis Stewart, Lord Karnak, was spelled out on the paper in perfect script. It was quite beautiful, and I was a little scared to open it. I did anyway.

The first line on the first sheet read, "Vault Inventory: Karnak". First up were books. A _lot_ of them. Including some that sounded rather interesting.

"What's 'Dover Skeckly's "Amazonian Herbs and their Magikal Uses" first printing, signed'?"

The curly-haired girl beside me sighed in a very sexual way, and said, "That's a book that you're going to loan to your favorite witch. Me."

"Um, why am I going to do that?" I had to ask because I was baptised Full-Gospel Instigator after I was born.

"Because, I'll be very happy if you do." She smiled, and I hope the other kids didn't see the heat in her eyes.

"Your happiness is nice, but I'd like to know more. I feel like I'd never get it back if I let you borrow it."

Oh my God, did she huff and puff!

"Fine! That tome is legendary…" Hermione began.

Neville interrupted.

"There're only three copies. Or, at least, that's what they say." The lad looked amazingly sheepish. "I'd be pleased to borrow it after Hermione does...If you let her, that is."

"Ah," I said, and moved on to another item. Next up were magical items and their properties.

"Gown of unmentionable seductions." I smiled from ear to ear. That sounded like a grand old time! "Makes the wearer irresistible to all."

The pretty girl who often shared my bed looked at me with steely eyes and commented. "You're stingy with your books. You'll likely be cursed for that. Really. A curse that causes 'persistent vile body odor," I bet."

"Mirror of Unending Horrors." I shuddered. "I probably need to take this list to Dumbledore and find out if any of the other objects are dangerous."

"PERSISTENT _vile_ BODY odor," Hermione hissed, and then turned her back on me.

"Oh, somebody's in the dog house today!" Ron chuckled. I ignored him.

I mumbled something and followed it with "Galleons." That got attention.

"How much money have you got now?" Seamus asked, eyes gleaming.

Harry looked over my arm and whistled. "More than enough. Lots of other stuff, too. A manor house on top of it all!"

I grumbled at him about privacy and giving me a chance to give it a serious read.

"Well, you should've never opened it at breakfast," Hermione chided, still quite annoyed with me.

"Ah well, I'm going to rectify this by finding a nice quiet place to read. Have a good morning everyone."

I picked up and left without even saying another word.

On my way elsewhere, I ran into Dumbledore, and pulled him aside to ask about some of the items on the inventory. He raised his eyebrows a few times, and pointed out some things I definitely needed to be aware of, and probably report to the Ministry of Magic.

Dumbledore explained that "Weenis Pagliacci's 'Concordance of Venomous Curses' first printing, DaVinci illustrations" is a very dark text indeed, and should be confiscated for the Ministry of Magic.

I was crestfallen. Da Vinci illustrations!

"The Skeckly book is just as rare as young Neville says. Small wonder he and Hermione would want to get their hands on it, if only for a short while." The old man gave me a warm little smile. "I think it might be more appropriate when they're Seventh Years. No one wants charmed vines slithering around the water closets."

"I'm still a little sad about the Da Vinci illustrations," I mumbled. Then again, I _could_ just save those pages and destroy the rest. Thoughts.

We went over the rest of the list, and I learned that I have a "sketch for a larger work" by Michelangelo in the vault.

"Well," the professor smiled, "that's quite nice, isn't it!"

"Oh, my."

I thanked him and wandered off to do more contemplating, nodding as he reminded me of our later meeting.

-**HPDEB**-

I could hear them arguing from several hallways away. Harry and Hermione never argued. I picked up my pace, enroute to my meeting with Dumbledore.

"I'm telling you, Hermione, Malfoy isn't acting like himself! You saw that for yourself. He walked right by us without calling you a...a...well, y'know."

"Honestly, Harry, how many times will we have this conversation? Malfoy is NOT a Death Eater. He's a 16 year old boy, like yourself. What use could Voldemort _possibly_ have for him?"

I watched Harry droop and was surprised at how harsh Hermione was being. I'd never seen her like this. Perhaps she was having a bad day?

"I hate to break it to you, Curly, but you're wrong."

Hermione started, and I realized they didn't know I was behind them. She turned and stared up at me like I'd grown a second head. Harry, however, looked like he'd won the lottery.

"Frank! Are you serious? How do you know?"

Hermione glanced around and scowled. "We shouldn't really have this conversation here."

She marched away into a deserted classroom, waiting for us to follow her before casting her normal privacy spells.

"Now, Mr. Stewart, what, _precisely,_ are you trying to say?" Mr. Stewart, _that_ was never a good sign. She was probably still miffed from earlier, as well.

"Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater. Has been since I got here. Who knows how long before that."

Harry's face lit up, but Hermione beat him to saying anything. "And you know this, _how,_ precisely?" 

"I can see it. He's covered in a sickly cloud of magic, just like Snape. Those two are the only ones with that blue color." She looked ready to protest. "And Dumbledore has confirmed it."

"And _you_ told me not to go to Dumbledore! I told you I wasn't barmy, Hermione!"

I decided to cut Harry off before he started a victory dance. They should know the position the resident Death Eaters are in. "Draco is also afraid for his life. I've noticed his smell change over the time I've been here." Harry and Hermione looked strangely upset by that revelation.

"Afraid for his life? How do you know? What's this about smell?"

"As you well know, Harry, I have senses beyond that of an average human. I can smell fear. Malfoy has been steadily growing more fearful. It's a stink. He literally reeks of fear."

"He's afraid of you, of course." Hermione declared, arms crossed, and still somewhat indignant.

I told her that she's wrong. It didn't go over well.

"He smells that way even when I'm not around, or when he doesn't know I'm there." I stared back at the woman I slept with just as fiercely as she stared at me.

"Bloody hell, you two! Stop it before someone catches fire." Harry stepped back a few paces and pretended to wave smoke away from his face.

"Well, if he is a Death Eater, what's he doing?"

Harry answered simply. "He's a spy. I wager Professor Snape is, too. Dumbledore would be dead now if he were more than a spy."

"The Headmaster is vastly more powerful than Snape." Hermione gesticulated vigorously. "Besides, Frank has utterly terrorized the man."

"I like to think I do my part."

Harry whistled, "You do! I think he quivers when you walk by."

I put my hands in my pockets and replied, "Snape and I have powerful differences in opinions."

"Frank, would you kill him, or even Draco, if they threatened Harry?" Hermione asked me..

My answer was flat and immediate. "Yes."

"You know I don't like Draco, but if he's been forced to be this way, he's still got a chance to change."

"Harry's got a point. I'm not sure about Snape, but Draco's still a kid." I scratched my head. "Anyway, I've got an appointment with Dumbledore. I'll see you guys later."

I messed up their hair and strode from the room.

"He really likes messing up people's hair," Harry commented; I could still hear him.

"Mm-hm."

"Does he mess yours up?"

"Harry Potter, don't you grin at me that way!"

** - HPDEB - **

Frank arrived on time. "Professor, before we begin, I have a few questions for you."

Dumbledore eagerly grasped at the chance to postpone this difficult conversation.

"By all means, Frank, ask away."

"I had a long conversation with Harry on Sunday, about his life. And Hermione has mentioned things here and there as well. I'm concerned about him. About his education, or lack of it. He shows no real enthusiasm. On top of that, you aren't training Harry. No one is. You're letting him coast through life. He should be pressed to be the top of his class. Instead he's near the bottom of the middle."

Dumbledore's voice was low. "It is not essential."

"The boy has a madman after him! How is it not essential for him to be prepared?" Frank was almost yelling. He wanted to howl.

Dumbledore sighed, and suddenly looked much older. He knew Frank wasn't going to like what came next, but it was time he was told the most sensitive part of Harry Potter's story.

"Professor, you do not look at all comfortable." A true observation, and a massive understatement.

"I am not." Dumbledore wasn't given to pacing, but he walked back and forth across his office floor, trying to figure out a way to broach the topic properly.

"I've told you much of Harry's story, but there is still more. You may, seeing how attached you are to the boy, find it quite unsettling."

"Sir, from what I've seen of this world so far, I wouldn't expect it to be roses and High Tea." Frank leaned against the desk and attempted to look relaxed. It was nearly impossible, Dumbledore was so agitated.

"The night Voldemort tried to kill Harry, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded on Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul, which was already so unstable, was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in the vicinity: Harry. I believe Voldemort was planning to use Harry's death to create a final Horcrux, a soul container, so his soul was already prepared to separate.

"However it happened, part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Voldemort's mind that neither has ever truly understood."

"While that fragment of soul remains attached to and, in essence, protected by Harry, Voldemort cannot die."

** - HPDEB - **

"So you're telling me that Harry has to die in order to permanently kill Voldemort?" My voice was flat. A feeling was oozing up from inside me, and I couldn't tell which one it was.

"Yes. It is the only way for Voldemort to be vanquished."

"How can you be certain? How many have you told this story? Who have you consulted?" I felt they were reasonable questions.

"This knowledge is dangerous. I cannot risk others knowing."

I had to work very hard to stay still. "You're telling me that you have decided, _entirely_ on your own, that Harry Potter must die."

There it was, anger. I snapped inside.

"I don't expect you to understand–" Dumbledore began.

I stood, just to give myself something to do. I couldn't keep my voice neutral. "No. That isn't a valid argument. You _cannot_ possibly know everything. It simply isn't possible for the human mind to hold all of that information. There could be possibilities in the Muggle world, like plastic surgery. The Goblins could have some secret ritual. Perhaps your bird could cry on it! Or there could be little known knowledge hidden in one of those myriad of books in the library downstairs. If you're going to offer up Harry as a sacrificial lamb for slaughter, you'd best be _damn_ certain that there is _no other way!_ "

I needed to get out of there before my technology decided to eliminate a threat.

"Harry is _my_ charge, Headmaster. Anyone wishing to harm him must go through me. _Anyone_."

"You act as though you have the right to decide what's best for him."

That did it. I grabbed Dumbledore and pinned him against the nearest wall. A small part of my mind made sure I didn't cause too much damage to him.

" _You_ are doing _precisely_ that. You've _never_ asked his permission, his advice, or even his general _thoughts_ about the things you've done and put him through. _YOU ARE NOT INFALLIBLE!_ You are _just_ as capable of making mistakes as the rest of us!"

I could see fear in his eyes, but it was held in check by his overconfidence.

"The boy must do his duty to our world."

"HE'S JUST A BOY! HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY DUTY YET!"

"MISTER STEWART! What are you doing!? Let the Headmaster go!"

I'd been so angry I'd completely ignored my heads-up display. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were all standing in the doorway.

"Frank, you must stop," said Flitwick.

"It is quite alright, just a little misunderstanding," said Dumbledore.

"Misunderstanding? _Misunderstanding?_ TELL THEM! Tell them what you've told me. What you've done!"

The three professors stared at us like deer in headlights. This, more than anything, alerted me to the fact that I needed to leave.

I set Dumbledore down and speared him with a look that left only fear in his eyes. And perhaps regret. "You tell them your idea of Harry's future. You tell them how you've come to this decision."

I walked out, stopping just outside the door.

"Oh, and Headmaster, I give you until dinner to change your mind about Harry's fate, or tell him the price he'll pay for being dutiful. He deserves to know you see him as little more than a pawn to play with."

As I walked down the stairs, I could hear Dumbledore quite clearly. "But it's our only hope." I also heard the Professors begin to bombard him with questions.

** - HPDEB - **

Students got out of the way when they saw Frank in the halls. No one was sure where he was going, but they didn't want to be there when he arrived.

Hermione, Luna and Parvati saw him. They didn't move.

"I've never seen someone so angry. Death Eaters don't even look that angry!" Parvati whispered.

"My goodness!" Luna stared at them with saucer-sized eyes. "The Ponpolites are bursting into flames all around him! The loss of life is terrible!"

For her part, Hermione kept her mouth closed. Frank had a meeting with Dumbledore earlier, but what the Professor could have done or said to make him so furious...She couldn't imagine.

Later, maybe in an hour or two, she might try to find him and help if she could. For the moment, staying away seemed like a good plan.

** - HPDEB - **

A few minutes later, Draco saw Frank approaching and promptly ran away.

Professor Snape, who had been speaking with young Malfoy at the time, prepared to chide him for being rude. He looked up as Frank passed by and understood why Draco disappeared.

"That was disturbing," Snape said out loud in the vacant hallway, "and I don't ever want to see it again."

** - HPDEB - **

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, and Chief Warlock, stood at his office window. Frank was striding through the courtyard with a terrible will. Dumbledore was certain that the winter grass would wither more under those terrible strides.

"Have I gone too far?" He asked himself. "Have I been too proud?"

The great man turned away from his window.

"What have I done?" It was a broad, and very painful, question.

"Tell us, Professor Dumbledore." Flitwick said, all business. "It appears there are things we need to know.

Dumbledore did as he was told, after swearing them to secrecy, and prepared to accept censure afterward.

Minerva McGonagall stared, open-mouthed, when he finished the story. Flitwick hissed and rocked back on his heels. Pomona Sprout simply wept.

Flitwick was the first to regain his ability to speak. "Dumbledore, I must agree with Frank. There has to be another way."

"Dumbledore…Albus," McGonagall said, her voice cracking, "please, please…oh, please…"

Sprout stepped forward, mopped her face with a dirt-encrusted hankie, cleared her throat, and slapped Dumbledore.

"You are not all-powerful and all-knowing. The lad is going to suffer for your pride, and that is…beneath you. Find another way."

"There isn't one!" Dumbledore threw his arms into the air, ignoring his burning cheek. "I have done all that can be done!"

"No. You. Haven't." McGonagall had regained some of her composure, but her Scottish burr still rang far stronger than usual. "And you've never given the boy a choice. I would never have allowed things to go so long had I known Harry Potter was ignorant of his fate."

"The way I see it, Headmaster," said Flitwick, "you either become open to other answers, or die at the hand of the man you set in place as Harry's protector. If, for some reason he shows you mercy, you will have lost our respect, regardless."

Flitwick turned and walked out the door. Sprout followed him. Only McGonagall remained.

"I will be back before dinner," she told him, spun on her heel, and left him alone.

He dropped to the floor the moment the office door closed, and stayed there for some time.

** - HPDEB - **

I wanted to do a lot of things, none of which could possibly do Harry, Hermione, Dumbledore, or me any good. Anger had me. It had me so hard that I almost stopped caring about anything or anyone.

Not a good place to be.

Instead of punching holes through walls, stones, people, furniture, or the like, I took a walk. It just ended up with me underwater in wintertime. I'd reached the lake and didn't care. My feet carried me for fifty feet before the ice shattered and I fell into the frigid depths.

Didn't matter that I hit the bottom. I felt gills forming, and webbing growing between my fingers. Leave it to my body to adapt.

I have to say that I'm very, very grateful to the giant squid in the lake. When I saw him, my mind cleared in an instant. When he reached out and gave me a loving hug, I lost everything that resembled anger in my heart. Instead, I worried that he might not let me go.

Hurting the big guy was out of the question, and I don't speak Giant Squid.

Panic set in a little when he tried to nibble on me with his scary beak. Passing through a squid's digestive track would take time. And hurt. Luckily, I'm not tasty, so he threw me away.

An opportunity to exit a touchy situation without hurting anyone is worth taking. I walked along the bottom of the lake until my head slapped against the ice. I broke it, and strolled back to dry land.

The gills and webbing reabsorbed, and my lungs started working normally. I felt very thoughtful as I stood there, letting my body do what it does so well.

"Squid hickies were not on my bucket list."

** - HPDEB - **

Frank appeared during Quidditch practice. Harry could see him from the air quite easily, and Ron pointed him out when he flew by the rings on a long loop around the stadium.

He could see them, for sure. Harry smiled and goaded his broom just a little harder. It was amazing having someone who feels like an older brother.

Frank was proud of him. He knew it like he knew water was wet, but he didn't know HOW he knew.

** - HPDEB - **

I watched Harry execute a stomach-tormenting turn on his broom and threw my arms into the air. Thumbs up! All the way up!

Things clicked. Suddenly, I saw the shape of my purpose and another path that needed to be explored.

"Oh my God," I said, "this is going to be ugly."

I waved at the team before I walked away. They waved back. It was a happy moment.

Better to store them up ahead of what might become a slash and burn operation.

** - HPDEB - **

Albus paced his office. Dinner was not far off, which meant neither was a confrontation with the most dangerous person in the world.

"There is no better solution. There can't be." He paced and clenched his hands. "I've explored everything. Harry has to die. Death will take the horcrux in payment for his life, and Harry will be revived."

Dumbledore froze. The moment had come. He had to convince Frank of his convictions and clarity of thought, or fall.

Frank didn't bother knocking.

"Dumbledore."

"Frank."

"Tell me you've come up with another solution. Please."

He was surprised. The "please" was genuine.

"I've thought everything through, just as I've done since Lily and James were killed." He held his hands upward, placating, reassuring. "Harry has to die."

The temperature of his office plummeted as Frank walked towards him. He only had one card left to play, one secret left.

"Harry will survive death."

Frank stopped in his tracks, perhaps ten feet away.

"How in the Hell do you figure that, Dumbledore?"

"Death takes souls. The moment Harry dies, the fragment of Voldemort's soul will be released. Death will take his payment in the form of the horcrux, and Harry will come back to life."

"You are a dangerously megalomaniacal old man. How egotistical you are, deluded, to even think you can bargain with Death." Frank started to walk forward again.

Albus drew his wand, hoping against everything he knew that magic could save him.

Minerva McGonagall walked through his office door. Frank had left it open.

"Frank Stewart, stay your hand," she said, and drew her wand.

"Stay out of it Minerva," Dumbledore warned, "no one else needs to be involved."

"What is going on here?" Snape hissed from directly behind McGonagall. He'd followed her, just to see why she was speeding down the halls in such an undignified manner.

"Leave, Severus!"

"No"

The professors aimed their wands at the same time, ready to do anything to save their headmaster, even die in the attempt.

"I agree with Dumbledore," Frank told them, "this isn't about you. Walk away."

"Never, you monster!" Severus Snape stood tall and readied himself for the killing curse, and what could come after. "I may not always agree with him, but I will not let you kill an innocent man."

** - HPDEB - **

The words left Snape's lips and I lost my temper.

"INNOCENT MAN?" I bellowed at the top of my lungs. "How blind are you? Are you that desperate for redemption that you can't see he's wrong?"

"How dare you judge? This isn't your world!" Snape yelled at me.

"Because HOGWARTS brought me HERE!"

"What?" Dumbledore whispered. "What did you say?"

I rounded on him. "Hogwarts brought me here. The Room of Requirement IS Hogwarts. Hogwarts IS the Room of Requirement. Harry's not the only one who needs me."

"You egomaniac!" Snape snarled. "Do you propose to know the unknowable as well?"

"I know what I need to know." I hissed right back at him, perilously close to killing out of anger. "I made a vow to protect Harry Potter. I've come to love him like my brother."

The wall inside me cracked right down the middle and the words came out through my closed throat, up from the rubble in my heart.

"Goddamn you all! I will not let him die!"

Dumbledore spoke to me in a very quiet voice.

"I knew I wasn't wrong about you. I thought that through as well. Can't you trust me? Will you not extend that to me?"

"No."

"Why Frank? Don't you know I love him too?"

It took everything I had not to break down or surrender to the demons inside me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill.

"You love being right more than you love him. You left him, a child, with a pack of abusive hyenas called 'relatives'. I dare you to tell me that was right."

"It was necessary."

"BULLSHIT!"

I threw the old man against his bookshelves again. My ability to be measured in my use of force was quickly crumbling. I could feel his pulse, and knew precisely how it would feel to squeeze the life out of him.

"Stewart," Snape called out from across the room, "how can Potter be saved when the greatest of us cannot see that path?"

I looked back over my shoulder and pinned him with my eyes.

** - HPDEB - **

"He's going to kill me right after he kills Albus. There isn't anything I can do about it, either," Snape said to himself.

"See, Severus. That's the problem. You've spent too much time worshiping Dumbledore to notice that he's still human. Humans make mistakes. Leading a boy to the slaughter is one of them," Frank said to him.

"You cannot know more. You cannot see more. You have only just arrived." Severus spoke in the most even tone of voice he'd ever tried to use. He was hoping to get out of this without any loss of life. Dumbledore was essential to the light.

"So, you knew about this." Frank hissed, "Another conspirator appears. Tell me Severus, if this was Draco, would you let one man with only one answer control his life?"

Snape rocked backwards on his feet, right into the door. The answer welled up in him along with the first tears he'd shed in decades.

"No," he said, and it was the truth.

"Then you understand my position. There will be another way." Frank nodded as a thought occurred to him. "There is another way."

McGonagall spoke to him. "You propose to save him. How will you do it?"

** - HPDEB - **

"I can make him like me. Voldemort used magic to saddle the boy with a fragment of evil. If Harry were like me, he'd be immune, and the magic wouldn't hold. The Dark Lord would die without hope of ever coming back."

"You cannot do such a thing!" Snape yelled. The prospect of another undying monster in the world was more than he wanted to imagine. "His magical core could be destroyed! The boy would be as good as dead!"

"I can. But unlike you and Dumbledore, I'll let Harry make an informed choice about his life and death." Frank's mind was working very fast. Making various connects in fractions of a second as he calmed down. "But before I do, I'm going to tear apart every horcrux I find and see how they work. If I can peel evil out of them, then I can peel it out of Harry.

"And if I can't do that, I'll cut the damned thing out of him. I can heal such a wound."

I walked towards the door. Snape got out of my way.

I turned back and said, "Do not get in my way. Do not become a threat to Harry's safety. Don't make me keep my promise."

I left them there, and I didn't go to dinner. I wasn't in my room for Hermione to find that evening. I was sitting on top of the highest tower at Hogwarts I could find, contemplating how to bring down everything and everyone. I would rip the Wizarding world apart to keep Harry safe and alive.


	20. Chapter 20

After a night on the highest tower, my mind had mostly sorted itself out. I climbed down the tower to take a little walk as I considered things one last time.

I'm a Lord. I'm a Lord in a world full of magic that I can barely make heads or tails of.

There's a bag in my robe that contains over nineteen hundred gold coins, a butt-ton of paperwork, little magic travel doodads, and a set of keys that belongs in the Victoria and Albert Museum.

There's a house, or a manor, or a shack, out there with my name on it. Lord Karnak.

Harry, my ward, who I had sworn to protect with my life, was expected to die in order to destroy Voldemort, and he had absolutely no idea of this.

I was going to have to tell Harry about the horrid destiny Dumbledore had in mind for him.

Well fuck me with a horseshoe!

My head was full of a thousand things when I went in for breakfast.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione was worried. Frank hadn't been at dinner, and he wasn't in his room the night before. No one had heard anything from him, or even seen him since the middle of the afternoon at the Gryffindor Quidditch practice.

"Did he go somewhere, d'you think?" Ron asked, showing a surprising amount of concern. "Not like him at all to miss breakfast. He's said plenty that he needs his morning coffee to function."

Harry shook his head. "He never said anything to me. I'm sure he's about, somewhere. If anything, he takes his job seriously."

"I'm worried," Hermione admitted.

The front doors of the school swung open just as the Golden Trio made it to the doors of the Great Hall. They stopped dead in their tracks to see who was coming in at such an early hour.

Harry and Hermione let out sighs of relief when it was Frank who came inside.

Ron, on the other hand, pointed at him and said, "Oi! You've got frost on you! Where did you sleep last night?"

Frank looked down at his arms and legs and made a "Hm" noise. "Outside, Ron. I needed a little quiet time."

"Well, don't stand there then! Breakfast!" Ron walked over and pulled Frank along by the arm.

The other students were a little surprised that Weasley would have the stones to do such a thing, but their observations were interrupted by their rumbling stomachs.

-**HPDEB**-

I was drinking my coffee, drying off, and keeping my own council when Hermione asked where I'd been last night.

"Doing a lot of thinking." An understatement.

"Well, if you're going to do that, would you please say something." She didn't bother to lower her voice. I was going to be chewed out like a normal person. "Do you know how worried Harry was, not knowing where you'd gone? Ron was beside himself as well!"

Ron looked at me and shrugged. Hermione was making liberal use of exaggerations.

"Ginny was worried you'd gone back to where you came from!"

Ginny looked at us like that was the first she'd heard about her feelings.

"Lavender was angry you didn't say goodbye, and Parvati didn't sleep well!"

Both of them wore placid, if slightly worried, expressions on their faces. They didn't disagree with Hermione, they simply said nothing in hopes that the madness would pass soon.

"And you were the most worried of them all, Curly." I looked right into her eyes. She fumed, and promptly turned her attention to her eggs and toast.

That's when I announced that I was planning to go have a look at my new manor, as Lord Karnak.

Dear God, but Hermione was miffed when she heard that!

Breakfast became even more tense. She glared at me, which is hard when the glaree is sitting right beside you.

"Hermione, give Frank a break. He's got to go look at his new house sometime." Ron said through a mouthful of croissant. "He may as well go when we're all in class."

"Be quiet, Ronald. You don't know what you're talking about."

"He's got a point, Hermione," Harry commented from his place on my left.

Ginny nodded. Lavender snuggled closer to Ron. Dean shrugged. Neville stuffed grilled tomatoes into his maw. Seamus snickered. Only Parvati had the nerve to comment.

"I believe someone will have some apologizing to do when he returns from the house. Isn't that right Lord Karnak?" she snarked.

"Hey, I'm just scouting the place, not planning on moving in." I told her before tucking into the eggs on my plate.

-**HPDEB**-

Dumbledore felt him fall along beside as he walked towards the Gargoyle Hallway. For a moment, it was though Death had touched him with icy fingers, he shivered so. Why Frank was walking with him, he had no idea, but he imagined that it couldn't be good at all.

"I need something from your office, if you don't mind."

"It isn't my life, is it?" Dumbledore asked under his breath.

"No, just something from my bag."

"Whatever for?"

"I'm going to look over the Karnak house today. I feel the need for a little excursion to clear my head."

They reached the Gargoyle, who graciously allowed them up the stairs.

"Is Hagrid going with you?" asked Dumbledore.

"No," Frank said, following him into the office, "I'm going alone."

"Ah, I suppose you'll need a portkey to return."

"Right, I was about to leave home without a return train ticket, wasn't I?"

The professor nodded, and reached into his desk drawer for a convenient portkey. He rolled it across the desk to Frank, who caught it effortlessly. A moment later, Dumbledore made a complicated gesture with his wand, and Frank's black shoulder bag appeared on the desk.

"Thank you," Frank said, and unzipped the bag.

Dumbledore watched him retrieve something that looked as if it might be a gun of some kind, but more boxy and rectangular than the revolvers he'd seen in the past. Frank seemed to squeeze the handle, and a long box popped out of it. There were bullets stacked in the box; the item was most certainly a gun.

"Are you concerned that there will be trouble at the house?"

Frank reached into his bag, pulled out another bullet-filled rectangle and shoved it into the handle of his gun.

"Let's just say I'd rather be prepared than not," he answered.

"If I may," the headmaster said, "there could be as many as four house elves. I do not know the size of the former Lord Karnak's estate, but I can almost guarantee that there will be two, one of whom would have been his personal valet."

Frank nodded, still cold and quite unfriendly. "I appreciate the advice and the portkey. I'm sure I'll see you when I get back."

"No doubt. Enjoy your exploration."

Frank nodded and left.

Albus Dumbledore had never before been so grateful to close his office door, sit in his chair, and breathe. Sometimes death was too real and too nearby.

-**HPDEB**-

Hermione was less than pleased when Frank brought up the topic of leaving for the day. He'd disappeared last night without so much as a note, and now he planned to be gone all day today as well. On top of that, she'd hoped to go with him when he decided to inspect the fringe benefits of his new Lordship.

From a purely practical, and logical standpoint, the longer they were involved, the more likely it was that she would spend time there. If she spent time there, it would be useful to know where the loos, exits and other features were located.

Her hedonistic side, on the other hand, knew she was lying. She wanted to be wherever he was, and share what he was doing. Then there was the carnal aspect…

She shook her head to clear it. She mustn't let her desires cloud her mind to her anger and concern. Something had to have upset him deeply to just sleep outside in the cold. While she didn't rate herself particularly highly, she was positive that a warm bed and a willing partner must be preferable to the frozen ground outside.

It must have been his meeting with the Headmaster that so upset him. What had he talked about with Professor Dumbledore that made him angry? Perhaps they'd conversed on topics nearer to Frank's past than they had before. She knew his life story upset him deeply, with all the killing and death.

There were times when she felt as though he and Harry had too much in common. Frank's family. Harry's family. Creeping evil that had claws in both men.

For Frank, she believed, loyalty to Harry was an attempt at redemption. Her own love for Harry was intense and loyal, too. It was good to have a comrade in the fight to keep Harry Potter safe, whatever his reasons for becoming a part of the team.

It was good to have a comrade in bed, too. And she was back to the carnal desires. And so her thoughts went, flitting about from topic to topic, analyzing various aspects of their relationship (could one even call it that), and considering various events that had occurred since he'd come into her life.

-**HPDEB**-

After I walked down to Hogsmeade, I pulled the Karnak signet ring out of my pocket and ordered it to take me to the manor. Moments later, I materialized on my knees in the middle of a rather nice lawn, and knew that I wasn't the only person there.

"Very good," a woman's voice called out across the grounds, "on your knees is a good place for you, Muggle murderer."

I raised my head. Sure enough, a lady dressed in black lace, leather and taffeta was coming towards me from the direction of a topiary llama. (There are bush-animals on the lawn! Cool!)

"Good morning. Is this the Gothic Lolita fan club come to greet me?" I quipped loudly.

I saw her frown from thirty feet away. Most of what I said went right over her flaming red hair.

"I haven't come to greet you, I've come to kill you in the name of the Dark Lord himself. Oh, and to take vengeance on you for beheading my lover." She kept coming closer, but pulled out her wand. "I am going to flay you alive and disembowel you before I let you die. I will bathe in your blood and drink your tears."

"That's an awful small bath, lady. Dilute my fluids with water if you want enough to get comfortable in. I might coagulate, so keep the bath warm."

"Insolence!" She shrieked. "Incarcerus! Crucio!"

This time, instead of rope, I got chains and shackles. Of course, Cruico didn't do a damned thing.

"Kinky," I commented. "Oh, right! I'm supposed to writhe on the ground in excruciating pain. I'm sorry, I forgot that part. Want me to do it now? Okay!"

I put on a show, calling out to God for mercy and cursing my mother for ever letting me be born. Lolita saw right through me, and wasn't as amused as I was.

"Eeeeee!" She was ANGRY. "Sectumsempra!"

Cuts appeared all over me, some straight down to the bone. That certainly hurt, but not for long, the wounds closed in seconds.

"Lady, this was a new outfit two days ago. Gonna pay for a replacement?"

I'm pretty certain "Reducto" is meant to blow you to pieces. It shattered the lower half of my legs and threw me about twenty feet. It certainly hurt like hell, but by the time I landed, my technology was already healing me.

She stalked over, laughing like the crazy woman she is, and prepared to do something else to make me more apt to allow blood bathing and flaying. Feeling superior, I suppose, she stepped on my head.

"Are you laughing now, Muggle?"

"Broadly speaking, no." I replied. I could tell my legs were already good as new.

"You can speak?"

"Honey, didn't you listen when they told you magic couldn't kill me? I'm just enjoying a little bondage action before touring my new home." I heaved a melodramatic sigh, and cut myself free of the chains. "You had to ruin my fun by cutting up my clothes and stepping on my head."

Lolita stepped back, and a horrified look spread across her face. She only had one more thing to try.

"Avada kedavra!"

Oh dear. Not again.

-**HPDEB**-

One more Death Eater done in by not listening to what they'd been told.

Her remains were spread over the lawn. I did, in my haste, leave her head intact, but for the wand sticking out of her left eye socket.

"Bother," I said, noting that I'd only been incapacitated for one minute and forty-five seconds.

-**HPDEB**-

I approached the door to the house — a rather large one with four floors, a portico, trimmed bushes out front and a decidedly un-magical appearance — and it opened in front of me.

Standing in the doorway was a peachy-gray skinned house elf, dressed in tatters. He squinted up at me and frowned.

"You is new Master?"

"I am the new Lord Karnak, yes."

"House elves must be bonding to you, new Master."

"Very well, proceed." The little creature took my hand, and a felt a jolt of something.

"Master in not quite Muggle. Master's magic is very weak, makes it difficults to bond with. Crinkle has bonded with Master. Dilly can be bonding with Master, but Loddy and Muppy maybe have troubles bonding, they is still young."

 _Magic_? I have magic? I had a new urge to speak with Dumbledore in depth. I forced my attention back on the elf when I noticed he was still speaking.

"Master's clothing is in terrible shape. Hm. Master is all covered in blood. Crinkle will fix, if Master comes in."

"Thank you, Crinkle. Leave the body outside, I will have need of it." I walked in like I knew what to expect.

I looked around at the entry hall. From what little I knew of architecture and decor, it looked Victorian. Maybe Georgian. Very classy, regardless.

"Would Master turn around?"

I did. The next thing I knew, I was clean and my clothes were mended. I thanked my house elf.

"Better." The elf commented. "Would Master care to take tea in the library?"

"I have a library?"

"Master has a library. Come this way."

Library: through the living room, through the gallery, first door on the left. It screamed Gentleman's Club from an earlier era, and I loved it. The fireplace made me weak in the knees.

"Dilly will bring Master's tea in a moment." Crinkle told me. "Crinkle can answer questions about Master's home."

"Please."

Crinkle explained to me that his role was Head House Elf, and he ran all household operations. Dilly was second in command, followed by Loddy and Muppy. By then, Dilly had arrived with my tea and introduced herself.

"It is my pleasure, Dilly," I responded.

"Master is generous to Dilly." She took my hand and bonded with me. Her eyebrows went up and down a few times before she let go and took her leave.

Crinkle went on describing the layout of the building. Eight guest rooms were on the second floor, surrounding the ballroom, which had a glass ceiling. Third floor rooms were arranged around the perimeter of the glass roof. The fourth floor was storage.

"Crinkle, where do the four of you sleep?" I asked.

"Wherever Master instructs. The previous Master allowed his elves a closet on the fourth floor. Most generous was former Master."

The little being was completely serious!

"That's insane. You now have the entire fourth floor to live in. I expect each of you to make up an area to suit you. If you'd like anything for your rooms, let me know, we can find it. I understand that House Elves do not wear clothes, however, why are you wearing such rags?"

Crinkle looked nervous. "Previous Master only gave house elves one piece of cloth each. Elves must make do."

"I've seen what you can do with clothing. I expect you each to make yourselves whatever you'd like to wear. Whether it looks like a butler outfit, or whether it's a tea towel, I don't care. But I want you to enjoy what you wear, and I expect it to be clean. Keep in mind that you represent me, as does your appearance. I'd like you to look and feel good. Use money from the household budget as often as needed. If it goes over 30 Galleons in a year, just let me know. Is that fair?"

Crinkle looked like he was about to cry. "Thank you, Master! We is making clothing tonight."

"Good. Is there anything else I can do for you, now that I'm," I still had trouble saying it, "Lord Karnak?"

"For us, Master?" Crinkle raised his eyebrows and held out his hands. He looked close to tears. "Master needs not do anything. We belong to Master, and are pleased to serve Master. Master gives us a home! Our own rooms! New outfits! Master has given us great luxury already!"

House elf culture makes my head hurt.

"Very well. I am curious about one thing, if I may ask." I sipped my tea and waited for an answer.

"Yes, Master."

"The previous Lord Karnak served the Dark Lord, so I am assuming that he engaged in unsavory activities. This house seems remarkably civilized for a man of that kind. Did he...do anything unsavory here?"

Crinkle frowned and worried at his hands as he spoke. "House elves is not supposed to be telling Masters' secrets."

"Your former Master is dead. He cannot harm you. I am your new Master, and I have asked you a question."

This seemed to work as I hoped. Crinkle stood taller and looked calmer. "Crinkle's former Master preferred the house kept tidy, but the basement left as he pleased."

"I see." Horrible things where people couldn't see them and pleasant living above ground. "Is there anything left alive in the basement?"

Crinkles eyes widened, and he shook his head. "No, Master. Not a single thing."

"Would it bother you to clean out the basement entirely, save for any plumbing, utilities or structural supports? We can move the fourth floor storage down there."

The house elf nearly wept. "Crinkle would be very happy, Master! Dilly, Muppy, and Loddy would be happy!"

"Thank you," I said and reached out my hand. Crinkle stared at it as though I was about to beat him senseless.

"Is it true, Master," he flinched away from me, "that Master has a magical black arm?"

I realized I was reaching out to him with my right hand. Oops. Disturbing the natives.

"Yes, Crinkle, that's mostly true." I flexed my fingers. "Take my hand."

You would think that I'd ordered him to fist a dragon, the way he looked at me. He followed my order and wrapped his long fingers around my hand.

"My name is Frank Stewart. The Lord Karnak thing is new to me." I smiled at him. "I want you to understand that I care about you, all of you, and your welfare. Please tell me if there is anything I can do to make your life pleasant and easy."

House elves cry. They will make you want to cry, too. Their joy will give you every reason to be kind to them. I have nightmares about how some are treated.

Not very long afterward, Loddy and Muppy appeared, led by Dilly. We tried the bonding thing and the youngsters shook their heads sadly. I tried to reassure them that they still have a home and that I value their help, even if I'm not magical enough to bond.

"We be understanding, new Master," Loddy said, "'cause Dilly tells us abouts you. We is happy to belong."

Muppy leaned in and batted her gigantic eyes at me. "New Master likes a tour? House elves can show his new home!"

"Muppy, that's brilliant!" I smiled and stood up. "Let's go!"

They gave me the full tour, all four of them. They chattered amiably, and pointed out a thousand things to take note of. I remembered all of them.

After the tour, I remembered something else.

"Crinkle, there's a head on the lawn. Is there a bag charmed against decay anywhere around? I expect I need to find out who she was"

Crinkle turned to Muppy and ordered her to fetch the head and bag it. Muppy disappeared.

"Master is satisfied with Crinkle's solution?"

"Yes, Crinkle, thank you."

The words had barely left my mouth when Muppy returned.

"Master, Muppy has brought you the head, with the wand. Muppy knows who it is."

"That's marvelous, Muppy! Who was she?" House elves were better than dragging the bag to Gringotts to have them identify it.

"Master, Lady Damiana Swift, Master. Muppy knows she was a guest here."

"Master," Crinkle spoke up, "the Lady was favored by our former Master."

"Favored?" I asked.

" _Favored_ , Master. Crinkle knows so."

"Oh. How nasty." I really wanted to wash my hands.

Loddy spoke up. "Master, the Lady was the Lady Swift." Loddy wrung his hands...a common thing for house elves, I was learning. "Master, Loddy heard of the bounty on her head. Five thousand galleons, Master."

"Oh. Thank you, Loddy."

Looks like I'll be going to Gringotts anyway. Joy of joys.

"By the way," I told them as I tossed the bag from hand to hand, "this place is now called Donne House. Named after one of my favorite poets."

"Crinkle understands Master. A good name, Crinkle thinks."

"Loddy understands Master."

"Muppy also understands Master!"

"Dilly understands Master, too!"


End file.
